Arrows in My Quiver
by Shedemei
Summary: Weary of believing that undead can experience nothing pleasurable, the Dark Lady Sylvanas Windrunner takes a consort from the ranks of her Forsaken army. What she didn't know she also needed was reassurance of her people's faith in her. And the author has far too much fun speculating about Forsaken culture.
1. Doral ana'diel?

Arrows in My Quiver

Chapter One: Doral ana'diel?

Summary: Weary of believing that undead can experience nothing pleasurable, the Dark Lady takes a consort from the ranks of her Forsaken army. What she didn't know she also needed was reassurance of her people's faith in her.

Disclaimer: Characters, settings, etc. are the property of Blizzard Entertainment. Except for Anristina. She belongs to Sylvanas.

Pairings: Sylvanas/OC

Author's Notes: I freely admit that I am a Sylvanas fangirl. Watching the video for "Lament of the Highborne" damn near makes me cry. Oh, um, relevant things…this story will make more sense if you've read _Sylvanas Windrunner: Edge of Night _and _Arthas: Rise of the Lich King. _Spoilers for those works if you haven't read them. What else, what else…this takes place after Sylvanas was killed but then resurrected by the val'kyr Arthura, Agatha, and Daschla.

I have headcanons about how undead work that Blizz probably wouldn't agree with. In fact, in lore terms, Sylvanas probably couldn't feel anyone kissing her. At first I felt so stupid about that that I felt like not writing anymore, but my muses are too strong, and they think that Sylvanas should be able to feel. Because how the hell else can she function if she can't?

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><p>Sylvanas Windrunner, Dark Lady and Banshee Queen of the Forsaken, was lying on a bedroll inside her tent, feeling immensely irritated. A priest, one of the Forsaken army's healers, stood over her, having insisted that she not retire with a gaping axe wound in her abdomen. Sylvanas fumed silently as she felt her flesh knitting together. It didn't help that Holy Light—the only spell that would work on Forsaken, of course—was exquisitely painful. She had long ago learned to remain completely still and unresponsive while being healed, but feeling as if her entire side was being steadily sawed at with a Flametongue-imbued short sword was not improving her mood. She had wanted to be alone; even the Dark Lady needed her privacy. What was the point? Mostly, she had to admit, she was annoyed that the healer was seeing her in the plain cloth robe she wore at night instead of her armor. She wasn't even wearing her hood. She had a reputation to uphold, dammit.<p>

"My lady? You are quiet tonight. Is everything all right?"

Sylvanas snorted. Was everything all right…what kind of a question was that? The Forsaken plague had yet to be unleashed upon the Scourge and the permanent situation of the Forsaken on this continent was tenuous at best. No, everything was not bloody all right.

The wound in Sylvanas' side closed fully with a sharp twinge, and she gritted her teeth. There would be no scar. Mindlessly, Sylvanas bit down on one of her knuckles until her teeth nearly broke the pale blue skin. That barely hurt at all. Was her near-immunity to ordinary physical pain due to the fact that Arthas had subjected her to agony of the soul and now agony of the body was a mere afterthought, or was it because she was undead? The tastes of food and drink were dull to her now, as were colors. Everything was dull. Was dullness all she would experience until the torment that awaited her after death?

"The Dark Lady seems troubled. Is there anything I can do?"

Sylvanas nearly asked the priest to bring her something alcoholic to drink, something strong. She was still capable of intoxication, anyway. Not all pleasures were lost to her. Then again, there were pleasures she wasn't certain about. Undead always lost their innate drive to pursue sensual pleasure. Almost all undead still, well, functioned—magic could certainly accomplish quite a bit, except in the cases of undead men whose crucial bits had rotted away—but Sylvanas had never been able to bring herself to try. If she left the once warm, exciting place between her legs alone, there was still the hope that she could experience sexual pleasure again.

But perhaps the time to try was approaching. The alternative was to get blind drunk again, and that never turned out well. Again with the reputation needing to be upheld. High elves, particularly undead ones, had to drink obscene amounts of alcohol before they began to feel tipsy, but Sylvanas didn't trust herself to cut herself off in this particular mood, regardless of how much she'd have to drink.

Sylvanas rolled onto her other side to look at the woman who had been healing her. She was one of the new Forsaken, raised by the val'kyr. Obviously once human, and turned undead not long after she had first been buried; the only signs of decay were a few worn spots above each eyebrow, more like a fashion statement than the natural progression of decomposition. Did the new Forsaken artfully disfigure themselves with rot? Sylvanas had heard of such practices becoming vogue in Deathknell.

And Sylvanas had seen this particular priest before many a time. After the recent skirmishes, this woman had been constantly around when Sylvanas had needed healing. At first, Sylvanas had not been surprised; new Forsaken, particular the ones freshest out of the grave, tended to closely follow their new leader after they first met her because they were so gobsmacked with admiration. They got over it after a while, though, and moved on to serving the Forsaken in places other than Silverpine. The healer who had just taken care of her axe wound had been hanging around her longer than usual…long enough to make Sylvanas wonder if she harbored feelings other than the normal naïve reverence.

The priest had noticed Sylvanas was looking at her and quailed a bit under the Dark Lady's gaze. Sylvanas ignored this reaction and kept appraising her. She had been lucky in the change in her coloring following her transformation to Forsaken; her skin was a pearly pale blue and her hair was a black so dark it gave off an azure sheen. She was likely descended from hardy peasant stock, as her body had been firm and strong in life, with ample curves and appreciable muscles but no elegance or grace about her. She had none of the litheness of the quel'dorei, sin'dorei or even kal'dorei, and definitely not the unearthly pulchritude of the val'kyr. But Sylvanas, as a warrior, could appreciate the beauty in a body built for hard work. And the priest's face, Sylvanas noticed, was lovely, perhaps strikingly so. Most importantly, she had an interest in improving Sylvanas' mood, and possibly more than that.

Sylvanas stood, brushing a few dried leaves from her leggings. The priest backed away slightly, nervous, perhaps cowed. She did not flinch when Sylvanas reached out to cup one hand around the back of her neck, but there was anxiety in her glowing eyes.

"What is your name, healer?" Sylvanas made a conscious effort to make her cool voice seem sweeter, less threatening.

"My name is Anristina Vale, may it please Your Majesty."

Anristina. A surprisingly pretty name for a peasant. Quite pretty, really, and beginning with the letter "A", rather like the names of several of Sylvanas' lost val'kyr…Agatha, Arthura…Annhylde…

"It does please me." Sylvanas tightened her grip on the priest's neck and kissed her roughly. Gradations in temperature were lost to Sylvanas, but textures were not. Anristina's lips were full and soft. "It pleases me greatly," Sylvanas whispered against her captive's mouth.

The healer whimpered, in surprise more than protest, it seemed, as she returned Sylvanas' kiss shyly. She made no effort to escape, even when Sylvanas sank her teeth into her lower lip.

Both satisfied and titillated, Sylvanas broke off the kiss and almost carefully pushed Anristina up against one of the thick posts supporting the tent. "I find myself in need of the intimate caress of another," Sylvanas crooned into the priest's ear. "Will you serve your queen?"

"I will serve," Anristina managed to croak. At the uncertain sound, Sylvanas hesitated; was she to force herself on this woman? No, her Forsaken deserved better, particularly one who seemed to care for her well-being.

Sylvanas tried again, softening her voice. "Will you serve willingly, Anristina?"

This time there was a pause. "Yes, my lady."

"Good. Come with me." Sylvanas took her new conquest by the wrist and began leading her to the bedroll.

"Wait…please, Dark Lady, wait." Sylvanas paused to look into Anristina's worried face. The healer averted her eyes. "What if…what if I can't please you?"

She sounded terrified. That made sense; Sylvanas was known for her lack of mercy. So Sylvanas released the undead woman's wrist, trailing three fingertips up to her neck. "Then we will assume the state of my body is to blame. I ask much of you. I am not without understanding of that fact." The Banshee Queen leaned forward slowly and kissed Anristina to reassure her, more of a light brushing of lips than an actual kiss. "I will not harm you," she whispered.

Anristina nodded. "Thank you, your grace."

"You may refer to me as Sylvanas, if you wish," Sylvanas added. This woman deserved some claim to intimacy with her considering her request.

"Sylvanas." Anristina tried out the name as if she'd never spoken it before. That was unlikely, but of course the healer had never addressed Sylvanas so personally. She leaned forward until her cold cheek was pressed to the side of the Forsaken leader's face. "I am ready to serve you, Lady Sylvanas," she whispered into the pointed ear.

"Good," replied Sylvanas, almost purring. The knowledge that she was in complete control of her healer was quite…exhilarating. "With me, now."

Anristina obediently followed Sylvanas to her bedroll; Sylvanas lay on her back and Anristina knelt beside her. Anristina watched nervously as the Dark Lady pulled her sleeping gown up to her waist, despite leaving her thin cloth leggings on.

"Sylvanas…what must I do?" Anristina was clearly confused at how little Sylvanas was exposing herself, how she clearly wasn't interested in foreplay. Well, this wasn't intended to be a long, sweet lovemaking session; Sylvanas just wanted to know what her undead body was capable of at the most basic level. There could be more…experimentation later. Not to mention seeing her new partner submit so quickly and obediently counted as foreplay in Sylvanas' mind, at least in terms of how it was making her feel.

The Dark Lady moved her legs apart rather pointedly, her knees slightly bent. "I want you to touch me."

Anristina glanced ruefully at her hands, which were—typical of the Forsaken—claw-like and menacing. Sylvanas noticed her hesitation and was about to tell her not to worry about inflicting damage, but perhaps that sort of thing could wait. This was only a trial run, so to speak.

"Are you right- or left-hand dominant, my little healer?"

"Right."

Sylvanas sat up and took hold of Anristina's right hand, curling it into something like a loose fist. She guided Anristina's hand down, brushing up the inside of her thigh, until the healer's knuckles were flush against the join of Sylvanas' lean, powerful legs. Anristina shivered. "My lady…"

Sylvanas stroked Anristina's wrist. "What's wrong?" She shifted her weight, pressing herself tightly against the pressure of Anristina's hand.

Anristina was shaking her head. "You are the queen of the Forsaken. I'm…I'm just a priest. I was raised from the dead to serve you, not to…to..."

"I have asked you to serve me intimately. You agreed." Sylvanas arched her spine, and this time Anristina pressed back. A promising sensation not unlike warmth spread through her groin. "Mmm…"

Anristina leaned over to kiss Sylvanas' cheek. "Please, my lady, tell me what you want."

"More pressure," Sylvanas breathed. "Stroke me. Quickly. Don't be afraid of hurting me. And…kiss me."

"Yes, Dark Lady."

Anristina obeyed beautifully, leaving a stream of kisses down Sylvanas' neck as she worked. The Banshee Queen writhed in pleasure beneath her touch, mouth slightly parted, panting softly though she had no need for air. She could feel pressure building within her, almost like she remembered from her days as a living elf. But it wasn't enough, not quite…

Sylvanas practically ripped the drawstring from her leggings and squirmed out of them. She heard Anristina stifle a gasp of surprise. "I want you inside me. _Now._"

Anristina looked at her clawed hands again, this time in horror. "But, Sylvanas, I don't want to hurt you!"

The sweet sensation inside her was fading without Anristina's touch; Sylvanas sat up and clasped her lover's hands between hers, summoning whatever knowledge of demonic magic her pleasure-addled brain could access, trying to force Anristina's hands into their original shape. She felt the knuckles pop back into shape, the fingernails re-form.

Anristina's eyes widened in astonishment and she flexed her newly humanoid hands, but she did not forget her assignment; her right quickly hand shot back to its original position, this time burying two of her fingers to the hilt into Sylvanas' body. A short breath more sigh than moan slipped past the Dark Lady's lips as Anristina caressed her deeply.

Sylvanas Windrunner let her eyes drift shut and her body do as it saw fit, her hips rocking in time with Anristina's strokes. The feelings were not as powerful as they had been when she was alive, but they were there, and then Anristina leaned up shyly to nuzzle and kiss her neck. Sylvanas gripped her new consort tightly, pulling the lovely body close, and _oh _it felt good to have the pressure and friction of another's body against hers, the strong, quick hand still working between her legs. Sylvanas felt circles of tension building and stacking and swelling inside her until the breaking point; she gasped sharply, falling back onto her bedroll, her mind swimming with sensations she thought she'd never feel again. She felt oddly warm, comfortable…at peace. Not quite happy, but soothed. Comforted. Content.

"My lady?" Anristina was still touching her hesitantly, obviously not having noticed that Sylvanas had climaxed, or at least come as close to it as a Forsaken could. "Sylvanas?"

Sylvanas took Anristina's hand and guided it away from her body. "You have served me well, Anristina."

Anristina's expression brightened. She lay down beside Sylvanas and kissed her cheek. "Did I please you?"

"Mmm-hmm." Sylvanas rolled onto her side and curled up slightly.

Anristina nuzzled the Banshee Queen's shoulder. "Victory for Sylvanas?" She whispered a trifle mischievously.

Sylvanas nearly laughed aloud. Oh, she _liked _this one. "I shall have to request more visits from you later."

"I would be honored." Anristina paused. "On one condition."

Sylvanas turned over, prepared to get angry, but her new lover's slightly arch tone stayed her temper.

Anristina bit her lower lip and her glowing eyes flickered momentarily—the undead version of sparkling, Sylvanas supposed. "Will my lady let me touch her ears?"

Sylvanas quirked an eyebrow, but after the places Anristina had just touched her, an ear-massage was reasonable…or at least it would seem so to one whose species name did not end with "dorei". Not to mention Sylvanas was perfectly aware how bitterly jealous non-elven races were of elves' beautiful ears. "Go ahead."

Anristina proved just as adept at ear-massaging as she had been at pleasure-giving. She lightly gripped the base of Sylvanas' left ear and ran her fingertips up and down its graceful length, carefully avoiding Sylvanas' many earrings, lightly stroking the pointed tip of the pinna. It reminded Sylvanas of when she was young, and still alive, and so vain she used to rub lotion onto her ears twice a day to keep the skin from flaking. "I was lucky to choose you for this."

"I know you don't mean massaging your ears." Anristina smiled tremulously. "But…I feel honored that you chose me, Dark Lady." Sylvanas was quiet, so Anristina continued. "I wouldn't have said…'lucky'. There are many among your Forsaken who would have given both their arms to be in my place tonight."

Sylvanas sniffed. "You didn't even get to see me undressed…at least entirely."

"That isn't what I mean, your grace. I mean…" Anristina paused, searching for the right words. While she thought, she reached up a hand to stroke the Banshee Queen's cheek. "Your Forsaken would fight to the death to defend you. Your Forsaken…love you."

Later, Sylvanas would blame the pleasure she had just experienced for the tears that came far too close to springing to her eyes; that and the fact that Anristina's light touch on her face felt so like the reassuring caress of Annhylde the val'kyr had when Sylvanas had lain, shattered and weeping, at the foot of the Lich King's throne. She ruled with an iron fist, relentlessly keeping the Scourge and Scarlet Crusade at bay, fighting to carve out a place for her Forsaken to be safe and permanently installed. Her followers respected her; that much she knew. Some admired her. Many of them feared her. But the last thing she was expecting to hear was that she was _loved_. She had thought that beyond the realm of the possible.

She would also later blame that feeling for acceding to Anristina's next request, which was that she undress completely. She removed her nighttime robe and lay quiet and still while Anristina cooed softly that she was beautiful, she was exquisite, she was the loveliest woman Anristina had ever laid eyes on, alive or no. Sylvanas felt lightly tripping fingers down one of her arms, accompanied by a whisper that she was not just lovely, but strong, a warrior in both heart and body. Sylvanas liked that; many depictions of her, in both pigment and stone, focused more on displaying her beauty than her strength despite the fact that the two could easily coexist. Still perhaps a bit afraid (or maybe because her hands had reverted to the Forsaken's usual claws), Anristina refrained from touching Sylvanas' naked body, preferring only to look; instead, she draped a blanket over the Dark Lady's half-sleeping form. Sylvanas could not feel cold, but she appreciated the gesture anyway. It was when Anristina whispered a good-night and made as if to leave that Sylvanas stopped her.

"I have given you little in return for the kindness you have afforded me tonight, Anristina." Sylvanas sat up, not bothering to keep the blanket from sliding off of her body. She wrapped her fingers around the healer's wrist again. "Tell me what pleases you."

Anristina was kneeling, but she managed to bow, clasping her hands together and avoiding eye contact. "It has never been my pleasure to be touched by another, my lady, not even in life." She sounded slightly panicked, as if afraid Sylvanas wouldn't believe her. It was strange, but not unheard of, so Sylvanas let the matter drop.

"Is there anything else you would like me to do for you?"

"No thank you, your majesty." Anristina dipped her head shyly.

Sylvanas was still basking in her happy lassitude and felt almost relaxed enough to sleep, which she hadn't done in years. Forsaken couldn't properly _sleep, _of course, but her apothecaries had created a type of incense that could lull a Forsaken into a state of deep meditation that was not unlike sleep. Even dream-like experiences were possible…and if Sylvanas did "sleep" that night, she might even not have the nightmares that had previously kept her from trying to rest nightly as she had done while alive. "You are dismissed with my thanks."

"Will my lady permit me to kiss her good night first?"

Sylvanas didn't see why not. "Yes."

Anristina leaned over and pressed her mouth to the Dark Lady's. She was gentle; not just timid, but kind. It cost Sylvanas nothing to return to the gesture, so she did so, surprised to find that the sensation was rather enjoyable.

"It feels strange, doesn't it, to kiss without warmth?" Anristina mused.

"Strange," Sylvanas agreed, "but not unpleasant."

"Lady Sylvanas…did you mean it when you said you would be requesting my…company again?"

"I don't make a habit of saying things I don't mean." Sylvanas didn't add, _Except to Garrosh Hellscream and his generals._

Sylvanas got the distinct impression that if Anristina still had flowing blood, she would have blushed. "I will see you then, Dark Lady." Anristina stood and headed for the tent's entrance.

"Anristina."

Anristina looked over her shoulder expectantly.

"I also expect your discretion in this matter."

Anristina nodded vigorously. "Of course. I'll say nothing of what happened tonight."

Satisfied, Sylvanas turned on her side, trying to find a comfortable sleeping position. She didn't quite remember how she liked to sleep. Ah, well, she would have to get up to find an incense burner anyway.

"Good night…Sylvanas."

Anristina spoke her name with an uncommon softness Sylvanas hadn't heard in a long, long time, if ever. When most people spoke her name, it was a bellicose "Victory for Sylvanas!" Hearing that gave her a kind of fierce rush, a brief reassurance that her people supported her. But those reactions paled in comparison to how she felt when she heard Anristina sheath the pronunciation of her name in a feathery kindness.

No, there would be no nightmares tonight.

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><p>Sylvanas was woken the following morning by the soft chiming of a proximity charm that she kept near the entrance to her tent. She reached immediately for her bow, which she never allowed out of reach; of course, her tent was in the safest area of the camp, but the Banshee Queen couldn't be too careful. Not to mention she was completely unused to sleeping.<p>

"My lady? I presume the charm woke you…it's me. Anristina."

Sylvanas momentarily closed her eyes in annoyance. She'd been having a very pleasant dream about the blissful oblivion death might have been for her had Arthas not raped her soul. A familiar twinge of the old rage rose within her. Arthas was dead, but she doubted her anger would ever fade, even after every Scourge minion was a pile of crumbling, inanimate bones and her Forsaken were safely installed in the ruins of Lordaeron and beyond.

"Come in, Anristina."

"I'm sorry I woke you, Dark Lady." Anristina bent her head in supplication.

Sylvanas waved off the apology. "It's not as if I _need_ sleep." But then she cut straight to the point. "What do you require?" Briefly she wondered if she should have made her intentions toward Anristina clearer the previous night. She didn't want to upset one of her useful healers—particularly as she was quite looking forward to having Anristina as a consort—but she was looking for nothing beyond the physical. Horde faction leaders could not afford to have that sort of fatal weakness. Not to mention Sylvanas had closed and locked the door on romance years ago, and no magic—arcane or emotional—was undoing that.

"I had noticed that you do not keep personal servants. I thought, if I am to be your…consort…I could perhaps assist you in other ways."

Interesting that she had chosen the exact term for herself that Sylvanas would have used. Sylvanas remained silent, waiting for Anristina to be more specific.

"Do you have no one to help you get into your armor?"

Ah. So she was looking for another excuse to see Sylvanas naked. Well, at least she wasn't asking for love and kisses. "I prefer my privacy." She made sure the tent flap was closed before standing, enjoying the irony in the action; the blanket slid off of her, and she was of course wearing nothing underneath. She fought back a smile at the way Anristina gazed at her both shyly and hungrily. When it came to her people as a whole, she wanted to be a respected leader, not a lust object, but sometimes it was _nice _to be admired. She was growing more and more fond of this consort idea by the minute.

Sylvanas kept few possessions. Life—or undeath, rather—as the leader of a faction expanding its borders was easier that way. What little she had was kept in an ordinary-looking Embersilk bag with more enchantments on it than notches on a libertine's bedpost. She withdrew a fresh pair of leggings and the comfortable (if small) garment she wore beneath her decorative chest-piece; if Anristina wanted to touch her naked skin by helping her dress, she had better have the guts to ask. She had no cause to be afraid; Sylvanas was the one who had approached her in the first place, and they had been intimate the previous night. Sylvanas had even let Anristina touch her _ears, _for Belore's sake.

Sylvanas was not anticipating a battle that day—perhaps a few light skirmishes at most—so she collected the pieces of the decorative armor she wore day-to-day and handed them to Anristina. She had a set of full-plate, of course—her death by Frostmourne had been an impalement through the abdomen; she was not so foolish as to leave her midriff exposed when she was truly in danger—and that genuinely did require help to put on. Of course, she was always fully dressed (and more covered than she was on a quotidian basis) when she requested such assistance.

To her credit, Anristina quickly figured out how fastenings of Sylvanas' armor worked and had her fully dressed in little time. Sylvanas was almost impressed. She was even more impressed with Anristina's self-control, as the healer was obviously struggling against her desires to simply fasten the elaborate pieces onto Sylvanas' body without letting her hands wander. But Anristina finally faltered while she worked on one of the shoulder pieces; from behind her, Sylvanas felt Anristina lean forward to nuzzle and kiss her throat.

Sylvanas whirled on Anristina angrily. "My body is not yours to fondle whenever you see fit. I may have chosen you for my bed-warmer, but I am still your queen, and you will _ask permission _before making such advances."

Anristina pressed her palms together in a gesture of deference and apology. "Forgive me, my lady, I was weak." She glanced up almost coyly. "And you are…immensely beautiful."

Sylvanas knew perfectly well she was being flattered, but it was also patent that Anristina believed what she was saying. "Forgive me for snapping."

"Forgiven." Anristina paused. "May I kiss you, Dark Lady?"

Sylvanas recalled Anristina's cheeky request to touch her ears the previous night, and it gave her an idea. "On one condition." Anristina looked confused, so Sylvanas continued. "You acknowledge that I gave you permission to use my name."

Anristina failed to fight back a smile. "May I kiss you, Sylvanas?"

Instead of replying with words, Sylvanas clutched her consort close and kissed her hard and deep, not as roughly as she had the previous night, but not softly either. Anristina buried her hands in Sylvanas' hair, either too shy to place them anywhere else or trying to sneakily play with Sylvanas' ears again. Sylvanas dug her fingertips into Anristina's back; that yielded a sharp cry of pain. Sylvanas pulled away. "What's wrong?" Something had to be genuinely harmful to cause a Forsaken to experience pain.

Anristina looked abashed. "Forgive me. My back has been…irksome ever since I was raised by your val'kyr. Sometimes I have trouble moving."

Sylvanas pressed almost gently on the place that had made Anristina cry out and found the flesh hard as rock. "Rigor mortis. It should have been reversed when you were raised, but sometimes it lingers." Sylvanas walked to her bedroll, beckoning. "Come here. I can fix that."

Anristina followed, looking nervous. Sylvanas motioned for her to lie down; she did, casting anxious glances over her shoulder. Sylvanas knelt beside Anristina and began methodically unlacing the back of Anristina's gown.

"Sylvanas?" Anristina sounded petrified. "What are you doing?"

Sylvanas said nothing; if Anristina was going to be her consort, she would learn soon enough that she could trust Sylvanas. Instead of speaking, she gave a little backhanded caress to the healer's shoulder blades and—after giving herself a few moments to admire how shapely and muscular Anristina's back was—worked her hands up and down, side to side until she found the place where the muscle was most tightly knotted and stiff. Sylvanas situated the heels of her hands firmly against the skin and spoke.

"This will feel strange."

And then she sent a pulse of low-intensity healing energy—she was capable of some re-shaping, but not nearly as much as a priest—through Anristina's lower back, pressing down as hard as she could. There was a loud _crunch _and Anristina yelped in surprise, her body jerking.

"Easy, my little healer. Easy." Sylvanas carefully kneaded the newly tenderized flesh with her fingertips, working out the last of the stress. "Does that feel any better?"

Anristina looked up at Sylvanas with a tiny smile. "Yes, thank you, my l—Sylvanas."

The pulse of magic had worked out most of the stiffness in Anristina's back, but there was still work to be done. Sylvanas curled her hands into fists and massaged the firm flesh with her knuckles, trying to ease out the rest of the remaining rigor mortis. She found herself wondering how many of her Forsaken who were actively fighting still suffered from residual rigor mortis. How problematic was that? If her warriors, rogues and hunters didn't have full range of motion, that was a severe disadvantage. Why hadn't healing magic cured the rigor mortis, then? Anristina _was _a healer and she'd had a massive knot in her back. But perhaps Sylvanas could instruct her healers to work on a cure for post-recruitment rigor mortis.

Sylvanas was jerked out of her reverie by the sound of Anristina's voice. Sylvanas had kept massaging her consort's back while she was thinking, and Anristina seemed to enjoy it. Really, she seemed to enjoy it immensely, if the noises she was making were any indication. She wasn't just crying out softly, either; she was moaning as if Sylvanas was doing something entirely different to her.

Sylvanas leaned over to whisper in Anristina's ear. "When I asked you for discretion, I didn't think I would have to make a similar request for while you are in my presence."

"I'm sorry." Anristina sounded rather breathless, despite the fact that she didn't need to breathe. "Was I too loud?"

"One might say that."

"I'm sorry," said Anristina again. "That just feels wonderful. You have strong hands."

"Well, archers with weak hands don't tend to have much success." Sylvanas continued massaging Anristina's back; Anristina closed her eyes, and Sylvanas nearly smiled at the expression of utter bliss on her consort's face. "I think most of the stiffness is gone. You should be feeling better now."

"I'll say," Anristina mumbled, and Sylvanas came far too close to laughing.

"Anristina, I have an assignment for you."

Anristina looked up expectantly.

"Speak with other Forsaken healers about rigor mortis. See if you can develop a quick and effective way to rectify it. If my fighters are being slowed down by it, it could be a serious detriment." Sylvanas thought for a moment. "Also, see if you and the others can see if there is any correlation between rigor mortis and time or location of raising. Who raised you? Was it Aradne?" All of the val'kyr were Sylvanas' sisters now, but after Agatha had sacrificed herself to return Sylvanas from death following Godfrey's back-stabbing, Aradne had taken over Agatha's Forsaken-recruiting duties at Deathknell and Sylvanas suspected she was having some trouble. After all, Aradne was the youngest val'kyr still active.

Anristina thought about that for a moment. "No…Aradne was there when I was raised, but it was Verdandi who spoke to me. I think she was the one who raised me."

"In Deathknell?"

"Yes."

Sylvanas considered that. Verdandi had done plenty of work raising corpses to become Forsaken in Silverpine Forest and had recently been reassigned to Deathknell. She certainly knew what she was doing, but she was also a lesser val'kyr. Were the lesser val'kyr less adept at recruiting Forsaken than the original eight? "Perhaps I should tell the undertakers to ask newly risen Forsaken if they are still suffering from rigor. They might be able to replace less crucial appendages affected by rigor, but back muscles…hmm…"

"I first spoke to Undertaker Mordo," Anristina mused. "He had to replace one of my knees." Her brow furrowed. "I remember seeing some of the new undead shamble off and become mindless, and some started an ill-fated attempt to start another undead faction…but one warrior reported to Mordo obediently, and then…" Anristina shook her head. "I couldn't believe what I was seeing."

"What?" Sylvanas asked warily. "Did she ask Mordo for something…unusual?" She had heard of new undead, driven mad from the revelation of their new fate, doing truly gruesome and bizarre things to their bodies. Never good for the reputation of the Forsaken.

"No, she…danced."

"She _danced_?" That was new. Forsaken were not wont to dance.

"She danced with Mordo. It was one of the strangest things I've ever seen, and I've seen some strange things since being recruited to your ranks." Anristina cocked her head to one side, thinking. "I think her name was…Maggie? Molly? Magda? Something like that, but really unusual."

"Hrmm. Well, I'll keep an eye out for her. She might be a bit addled, and a rotbrain with a greatsword is not somebody I need running around." Sylvanas sighed and stood up. "You have your assignment. You are dismissed. Let me know what you find out."

Anristina got up and re-laced the back of her priest's robe. "Yes, my lady. And thank you again. My back feels much better." Suddenly Anristina grinned. "Perhaps you could arrange a Forsaken massage regimen for those who still suffer from rigor to help heal each other."

Forsaken as a race didn't joke much, but Sylvanas could tell Anristina was kidding. It was odd, but not unwelcome, to hear one of her undead actually tell a joke, or at least one other than the worn "they're not mine, but they're real". "It's a good thing I don't often sleep. That image would haunt my nightmares."

Anristina laughed out loud, half in amusement, half in surprise that the famously cold and stoic Dark Lady had actually said something deliberately funny. She immediately silenced herself, eyeing Sylvanas with something like fear.

"Anristina, please stop looking at me like I'm going to cannibalize you. You can laugh."

Anristina smiled again. "Sorry, Dark La—Sylvanas. It's a bit difficult to go from revering you from a distance to being so familiar so quickly."

Sylvanas nodded. "As I said, report back to me after speaking with the other healers. And ask Apothecary Putrescine if he's noticed a rigor mortis problem if you have time."

"I will." Anristina hesitated at the tent's entrance. "When would you like me to report back to you?"

"Tonight." Sylvanas paused. "No, strike that—every night."

Anristina's eyes glowed a bit brighter than usual for a moment. "I will see you then, my lady."

Sylvanas let that one slide because Anristina was halfway out the door and it wouldn't do to let others hear Anristina speaking too informally. "_Al diel shala. _Safe travels."

* * *

><p>AN: Blame the plot bunnies. I like writing about the Forsaken, and I'm growing really fond of Anristina.


	2. Al diel shala

Arrows in My Quiver

Chapter Two: Al diel shala

Summary: Weary of believing that undead can experience nothing pleasurable, the Dark Lady takes a consort from the ranks of her Forsaken army. What she didn't know she also needed was reassurance of her people's faith in her.

Disclaimer: Characters, settings, etc. are the property of Blizzard Entertainment. Except for Anristina. She belongs to Sylvanas.

Pairings: Sylvanas/OC

Author's Notes: Chapter names are all Thalassian. "Doral ana'diel", the title of the first chapter, means "How do you fare?". "Al diel shala" means "safe travels".

* * *

><p>Anristina returned to Sylvanas' tent that night, and every night for weeks afterward. Sylvanas quickly learned that despite being completely willing to be her consort, Anristina was incredibly uncomfortable allowing Sylvanas to be affectionate with her. Sylvanas wasn't exactly the most touchy-feely elf ever, but she had been expecting the woman who was pleasuring her to allow Sylvanas to at least do more than kiss her.<p>

The second night they were together, Sylvanas pushed Anristina up against one of the sturdiest posts supporting the tent while kissing her, Anristina kissing her back as passionately as ever. Since Sylvanas was nearly a head taller than Anristina, Sylvanas found herself passing her hands over Anristina's powerful thighs, trying to get Anristina to wrap her legs around her waist. Anristina had hesitated despite her obvious desire to do what Sylvanas wanted, and Sylvanas whispered in her ear: "Put your legs around me. I won't let you fall."

Sylvanas was more than strong enough to hold Anristina up, and once Anristina's ankles were linked behind Sylvanas' back, their position was quite secure. So Sylvanas was busily kissing and biting Anristina's neck when she began whimpering in protest. "Sylvanas…please…it's too much…"

Sylvanas immediately stepped back and helped Anristina get to her feet; this proved to be pointless when Anristina sank to her knees. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Forgive me…"

Sylvanas didn't miss the fact that Anristina was pressing her thighs together, as if she couldn't believe the Banshee Queen's body had been between her legs for five seconds. She touched Anristina's hair lightly. "There is nothing to forgive. Have you learned nothing by being one of my Forsaken? Your will is your own, Anristina. You are my consort, not my slave. If you are uncomfortable, you must tell me."

"But I'm supposed to please you…"

"Do you think it pleases me to see you upset?" As a queen, Sylvanas did not like to kneel to bring herself to another's level, so she bent down to help Anristina up instead of sitting beside her. Anristina buried her face in Sylvanas' shoulder.

"My lady is more understanding than I expected. Thank you."

The rest of the night had gone quite smoothly.

It had also taken over two weeks for Anristina to feel comfortable undressing for Sylvanas. Sylvanas, utterly comfortable with her body (despite the fact that it was technically dead), had no qualms about being naked in Anristina's presence, particularly because she was amused by the besotted way Anristina looked at her. But one night she tried unlacing Anristina's robes and was met with soft words of protest and stuttered apologies. Sylvanas had no intention of violating Anristina's wishes, but she was quite befuddled, so finally she asked why Anristina refused to undress.

Anristina hung her head as much as she could while lying next to Sylvanas on her bedroll. "You're so beautiful, Sylvanas."

"Yes, you say that often enough." Sylvanas, as a rule, didn't cuddle, so she and Anristina were lying beside each other holding hands; she gave Anristina's hand a light squeeze.

"But I'm…I'm ugly."

"_What?_" Sylvanas sat upright. To Sylvanas' eyes, Anristina was lovely as a Forsaken; that meant she must have been breathtakingly beautiful when she was alive. "What kind of a statement is that?"

Anristina paused. "I've never…I've never been with anybody but you. That's why I was so worried I wouldn't be able to please you."

"And how old were you when you died?"

"I was…twenty-four."

"So? You came from a peasant family, didn't you? You were hard at work most of the time."

Anristina made a noise that might have been a sob. Had she been alive, it would have been easier to tell. "Yes, I was. You should have heard what the neighbor boys said to me while I worked." Anristina fell silent again. Sylvanas knew Anristina expected her to ask, but she was also fairly certain she would reveal what the neighbor boys said anyway, so she waited. She was right; Anristina continued. "They teased me incessantly. They'd say things like 'When the horse dies, Tina will pull the plow!' or 'Is a storm coming? Oh, no, it's just Tina's thunder-thighs making noise when she walks.'"

"_Men_," said Sylvanas, disgusted. "They were likely jealous that you were stronger than they were. Or perhaps they were mocking you because they desired you. Men do completely inane things like that."

"It's worse than that." Anristina muttered. "There was one boy who never teased me. His name was Ronny. We…courted for a little while. One time we were…together, he started undressing me, but he was so disgusted he spat at me and ran off."

"He was probably in league with the nasty ones," Sylvanas pointed out. "Ronny probably joined in the teasing of you when you weren't there. I would wager that one of the other boys either dared him to court you and hurt your feelings, or he made that plan himself and avoided taunting you to your face because of it. In either case, he was a son of a bitch, but he likely wasn't disgusted by you."

Anristina looked up at Sylvanas. "You think so?"

"I'm a renowned military strategist and I think so." A tiny smile curled Anristina's lips; Sylvanas continued. "And let me tell you something. Those buffoons are not the ones whose judgment you should be concerned with. When the Dark Lady thinks you're beautiful, it must be true, and not only because she automatically compares everyone to the beauty of the high elves."

Anristina turned over and hugged Sylvanas briefly. "I've always admired you, but I didn't expect you to ever be…well, nice."

"Nice?" Sylvanas snorted. "Rather honest with those who matter. You're lovely."

Anristina fought back a smile. "I'm not too happy with the way my hair…came out, I suppose. The color's fine, but it's so…stiff."

"Mm. That's not an uncommon problem among our people. You do know you can get it changed by a barber in Undercity, yes?"

"I've never been to Undercity. I'm not one of the more…adventurous ones."

"I must travel frequently back and forth between here and there, and sometimes to the Forsaken Front in Silverpine Forest." _And Northrend. _"You should go there at least once. It is our home now. Besides, you are a part of the New Undercity Battalion. Or were you never told why that doddering fool Mortuus called you 'Anristinanub'?"

"Wait…I thought Mortuus was your Grand Executor."

Sylvanas huffed out a short, irritated breath. "He is. But he is also a doddering fool."

"When you next go to Undercity…may I go with you?"

Sylvanas was silent for a moment. "I am not in the habit of traveling long distances with my soldiers. People might suspect something. Perhaps I could go in disguise with you."

"All right. Maybe. When will you be next traveling to Undercity?"

"I go often. Undercity doesn't run itself, after all."

Anristina nodded. "Sylvanas, may I…may I stay the night with you?"

"Allowing others to know you spent the night with the Banshee Queen is not 'discrete', Anristina."

Anristina sighed. "I know. May I kiss you good-night?"

"Yes."

Sylvanas accepted Anristina's kiss and dismissed her, as always, with her thanks.

* * *

><p>Anristina also developed a habit of returning to Sylvanas' tent each morning to help her dress and put on her armor. Since Sylvanas rarely slept, she was often awake and responded with a casual "Come in, Anristina" when Anristina approached and the proximity charm chimed. But one morning Sylvanas had actually been asleep, or at least resting, and Anristina pushed through the tent flap to find Sylvanas still half-lying down, but with her bow raised and an arrow nocked.<p>

"Sylvanas, it's only me!" Anristina raised her hands in a panic, but Sylvanas was already putting the bow down.

"It's a reflex." Sylvanas got to her feet in a single, fluid motion to greet Anristina with a kiss.

"I have to admit I'm a little jealous of your bow."

"My bow?" Sylvanas knitted her eyebrows. "Why?"

"Well, there are a couple reasons." Anristina averted her eyes shyly. "Mostly because you always keep it near you. It's important to you. And…you're always touching it and picking it up."

Sylvanas pulled Anristina close to her and squeezed her tightly. "I need my bow to defend myself, first of all, and I can afford to keep it near me always because I'm one of the best archers in Azeroth…and people know that. And we are _trying _to keep us a secret."

"Likely one of the best lovers in Azeroth too…" Anristina mumbled.

"Maybe you'd actually know that if you let me do more for you," Sylvanas chided.

"I'm supposed to be your consort, not…your lover as your equal." Anristina protested.

Sylvanas raised her eyebrows and tilted Anristina's chin up with one hand with the expression of someone who has just uncovered a secret. "And I thought you had never liked being pleasured."

Anristina's expression was one of unsubtle guilt. "I lied. I…I think I don't deserve you in that way."

"Well, we'll have to work on that." Sylvanas nipped at Anristina's ear, but Anristina pulled back, head bowed and hands pressed together in supplication.

"Sylvanas…please…no…"

"Tina, have I ever forced you into anything?" Sylvanas pried Anristina's hands apart. "No, I haven't, and I don't plan on it. How many times must I say it? You are not my slave."

"I thought maybe…you'd be angry that I lied to you. And you wanted to punish me."

"By forcing myself on you?" Sylvanas shook her head. "Everyone lies. I've come to anticipate it. If I punished or killed everyone who had lied to me, I'd have no allies left. And most importantly…" Sylvanas leaned forward to brush her lips against Anristina's, calling back the first time she had invited the healer into her bed. "I will not harm you."

Anristina smiled sadly. "You do have a reputation for ruthlessness."

"I give no quarter when it comes to my enemies, or those who would betray the Forsaken. You are neither of those. You are one of my Forsaken."

But something about Anristina's earlier comment about envying her bow brought an old expression back to the forefront of her mind; the idea that the Forsaken were arrows in her quiver. Identical tools to be used and then recovered if possible, but if not, new ones could be made. Sylvanas had not been physically ill since long before she had become undead, but looking into Anristina's face, at the yellow eyes glowing with emotion, she felt oddly sick and unsteady. She mentally shook off the feeling. The Banshee Queen did not have time for such trifles.

"Shall I help you with your armor now?" Anristina queried hesitantly.

Sylvanas answered with a businesslike nod, so Anristina set about finding all the pieces of Sylvanas' armor before removing her nighttime robe and leggings.

"My lady? You mentioned that you want to keep the fact that you have a consort a secret, and I think that's a good idea…but I think my tent-mates may be starting to suspect something. I've never told them where I go at night, but…"

"You think they know you're coming to my tent?"

"Possibly." Anristina smiled wryly. "Maybe you should have chosen a rogue for your consort."

"Oh, I'm quite happy with my choice." Sylvanas thought for a moment. "I have an idea. We may have to journey to Undercity earlier than I anticipated."

* * *

><p>Sylvanas almost always traveled alone. It gave her time to ponder new strategies and not have to put up with anyone else. But Anristina was nervous about going to Undercity for the first time by herself, as she heard it was very difficult to navigate despite the numerous dreadguards who could give her directions, so Sylvanas disguised herself as an ordinary Forsaken so she and Anristina could buy bat rides to Undercity at the same time.<p>

Anristina came close to falling completely off her bat when they landed beside bat handler Michael Garrett in Undercity's Trade Quarter. She clutched at Sylvanas' arm, her jaw hanging open in an utterly gobsmacked expression.

"Impressive, isn't it?" Sylvanas queried softly with only a trace of a smile.

In Anristina's mind, "impressive" didn't even begin to cover it. The ceiling of the Trade Quarter was so high and vaulted Anristina had to crane her neck in a way that would have been painful had she still been alive to see that it was inscribed with tessellating skull-like shapes, and in the center of the ceiling there was carved an enormous upside-down lily, perhaps an amaryllis, with five-point symmetry. The canals ran with a vividly green liquid whose presence Anristina found both slightly frightening and unsurprising and the center of the quarter contained a massive, intricately carved statue from whose bulk sprung stone staircases and wooden ramps that led to the various tiers. "It's amazing!"

"It is indeed." Sylvanas' smile grew with pride for all her people had accomplished. "It is our home."

"There's a kind of…beauty to it. A dark, weird beauty, but it's beautiful all the same." Anristina grinned. "Like you."

Sylvanas lightly ruffled Anristina's hair; she allowed herself gestures of affection in public when nobody knew it was her.

"So where should we go first, Syl—Mierelle?"

Sylvanas had confided to Anristina that at times she liked to wander the streets and canals of Undercity without the folderol of being constantly treated as a queen. Anristina had been puzzled until Sylvanas explained that while she relished her position as leader of the Forsaken, she did need her space at times; not to mention there was no better way of understanding what quotidian life was like for her people than pretending to be a common one of them. The name she most often used when traveling through Undercity in disguise was Mierelle Dartfall, a name whose use was so widespread it might be considered the Forsaken version of the human "Jane Silversmith".

"Straight to the barber. He's very close. And then we shall tour Undercity with you looking fresh and lovely."

If Anristina still had flowing blood, she would have blushed. She was feeling that way around Sylvanas with increasing frequency, mostly because Sylvanas tended to be very frank with her opinions of people, and while that led to her brutally insulting those who erred, many Forsaken found their unlives improved forever by a few words of genuine praise from the Dark Lady. Anristina was quickly becoming much more privy to that experience than any of Sylvanas' other subjects.

Naznik Sureshave was only a few meters away from the bat handler, so Sylvanas walked with Anristina to the barbershop, where Naznik greeted them brightly and asked which of them—if not both of them—would be getting their hair trimmed or changed. "Mierelle's" hair was chopped so short it was almost a crew cut, so she patted Anristina's shoulder and said "Just my friend here." To Anristina, she said, "I have to go now, but you won't have to wait long."

Anristina nodded. "I'll see you later…Mierelle."

"Pull up a chair," Naznik suggested, but Anristina shook her head.

"I'm going to wait, I think. There's somebody I'm waiting for."

Naznik's goblin brow furrowed, at least as much as a goblin's brow could furrow. "Who? First time in the chair, Miss? Goblins are fine barbers; no need to be afraid!"

Naznik had his answer a few minutes later when the Banshee Queen herself strode into the barbershop. The newest Forsaken dropped to their knees, foreheads to the floor; the others bent one knee and bowed their heads. Naznik bowed deeply. "Your Majesty! What can this particular barber do for you? A dye job, perhaps? Not that corn-silk isn't a lovely shade for you, my lady, of course…" Flustered, Naznik made a dismissive gesture in Anristina's direction. "Out! Out! The Dark Lady takes priority!"

Sylvanas ignored Naznik completely and addressed Anristina. "Ah, Anristina. Good; you're here. I trust Mierelle was a satisfactory escort for you?"

"Yes, my lady. Quite." Anristina dipped her head respectfully.

Sylvanas walked crisply to Anristina and extended her right hand; Anristina took it and reverently kissed Sylvanas' knuckles.

Sylvanas had garnered some odd looks when the surrounding Forsaken commoners noticed she wasn't wearing her gauntlets, but the sight of the Banshee Queen allowing someone to actually kiss her bare hand earned several stifled gasps.

"I'm ready to get my hair fixed, Dark Lady."

Sylvanas nodded curtly and turned to a still-flabbergasted Naznik. "I need my consort's hair done."

She didn't put any particular emphasis on the word "consort", but there were even more gasps surrounding that sentence. Sylvanas ignored them and waited for a response from Naznik, who nodded rapidly and ushered Anristina to the barber's chair. "And how would you like her hair to look, Your Majesty?" Naznik produced a book of styling options and handed it to Sylvanas, bowing almost obsequiously. Sylvanas leafed through it as if bored, casually giving Naznik orders as she did so.

"The current color is satisfactory, but give her a softening treatment. Give her the "loose" hairstyle, and…" Sylvanas flipped a page in the styling options book and her eyebrows went up perhaps half a centimeter. "Curl it."

Naznik sputtered for a moment. "My lady, it is _extremely _difficult to curl Forsaken hair, and even if I try the treatment, it may not take…" He withered under Sylvanas' cold gaze.

"Her hair must be softened before it can be curled, yes? As long as you're softening it, curl it as well."

Naznk knew he was fighting a losing battle, but he tried again. "The treatment takes a while…"

"My little healer is patient." Sylvanas squeezed Anristina's shoulder. "Aren't you?"

"Yes, my lady."

"Oh—and fix up her face."

Naznik nodded; Anristina looked alarmed. "Dark Lady, will he…will he put stitches in my face?"

"It won't hurt," said Sylvanas almost gently.

"It's just…unnerving." Anristina squirmed uncomfortably in her chair.

Sylvanas brushed the back of one hand against Anristina's cheek. "Will you do this for your Dark Lady?" she crooned, causing every Forsaken in attendance to think they would give all the gold in Undercity to be in Anristina's place.

Anristina smiled shyly and nodded.

"Good girl." Sylvanas patted Anristina's shoulder. She looked up at Naznik. "So it's settled, then?"

Naznik did not risk his job (and perhaps his neck) by asking Sylvanas for payment. The Dark Lady did not need to use money for such trivialities. Instead, he set about mixing the reagents for Anristina's hair treatments. Under Sylvanas' watchful eye, he draped a smock around Anristina's neck and began combing her hair and pouring various liquids over it, muttering to himself. Anristina held still as the unkempt mass on her head was slowly transformed into a loose, stylish, almost silky bob. Sweat beaded on Naznik's forehead as he rolled segments of Anristina's hair into curlers after spritzing the hair with an odd-smelling (for those who had enough of a nose left to smell) liquid.

"I'll go ahead and work on her face while that sets, shall I?" Naznik wiped his face on his sleeve.

"Wash your hands first," replied Sylvanas.

Naznik obeyed rapidly, then scurried about, collecting the tools he would need to repair the rot-holes above Anristina's eyebrows. As he approached, Anristina reached out for Sylvanas, obviously nervous; Sylvanas consented to hold Anristina's hand as Naznik carefully grafted small, neatly cut scraps of skin over the little holes in Anristina's face. When he was finished, he offered Anristina some healing potion to finish the job, but she declined and healed herself.

Anristina slumped in the chair, obviously relieved that the repair of her face was over. "You look very fine," Sylvanas assured her.

"The curling agent will have to sit for at least another twenty minutes," Naznik piped up, still visibly nervous.

By now, a veritable crowd had formed outside Naznik's shop as Forsaken commoners gathered around to catch a glimpse of the Banshee Queen's new consort. Anristina heard them speaking in hushed whispers and, now that she didn't have to hold perfectly still, she craned to look at the assembled Forsaken. "Um…my lady…?"

"I know they're there. Just ignore them."

Anristina waited patiently as the curls in her hair set, trying not to listen to the various appraisals of her. Fortunately, the angle of the chair didn't allow passersby to see much, most of the crowd dissipated fairly quickly but for a few people whose main interest was ogling Sylvanas. Eventually, a very anxious Naznik cautiously removed the curlers from Anristina's hair. The tight curls fell elegantly to just below Anristina's chin. "I…I think it might have actually worked!" Naznik beamed. "Still the finest barber in Undercity!"

"How does it look?" Anristina looked up at Sylvanas.

"I think we should let the mirror decide that."

Naznik took the hint and hurried to bring a hand mirror to Sylvanas, who held it up before Anristina, who gaped at her reflection. "I…I look…"

"Lovely," Sylvanas finished. Anristina grinned and wrapped one arm around Sylvanas' waist. "We'll be going now. Good business to you."

Naznik bowed several times and beckoned to the now-small group congregated outside his shop, some of whom were actually there to get their hair or features altered. Sylvanas laid a hand on the back of Anristina's neck in one hand and led her out. As they walked to the royal quarter, Anristina couldn't help but notice how many people did double-takes when they passed. When she tried to catch their eye, they turned away quickly, as if ashamed.

Sylvanas said nothing to her until they reached Sylvanas' private quarters; as soon as the door shut, Sylvanas cupped Anristina's face in both hands and said almost gently, "You look beautiful."

Anristina flung her arms around Sylvanas. "Thank you for bringing me here so I could get my hair done."

"It was my pleasure. When you said you wanted to curl your hair, I wasn't sure if that would be possible. I'm glad it worked out."

"It's so good to have my face back to normal," Anristina sighed.

"I genuinely believed you were frightened by that idea. I had no idea you were such a talented actress."

Anristina sighed. "Thank you. May I…may I see my reflection again?"

"Certainly." Sylvanas led Anristina to her vanity, where there was an ornate, extremely well-made mirror leaning against the wall. She stood behind Anristina, hands on her consort's hips. "What do you think?"

"I love it." Anristina turned her head from side to side, admiring the different angles, then shook her head rapidly back and forth to watch the curls bounce. "I look more like myself. I had curly hair when I was alive. I mean, there's nothing wrong with ordinary Forsaken hair, but I didn't feel like myself."

"'Yourself' looks quite pleased." Sylvanas dropped a kiss just below Anristina's ear. Anristina sighed happily; Sylvanas was rarely the one to initiate affection.

"We're in your quarters," Anristina whispered. "May I sleep here with you? I mean…the word's out that I'm yours."

"You're welcome to sleep in my bed." Sylvanas nipped at Anristina's ear. "Sleeping beside the Dark Lady has its price, of course." Her hands ran up and down Anristina's sides and hips in agonizingly slow caresses. "A price you are excellent at paying, might I add."

Anristina let her eyes drift shut. "And one I'm very willing to pay."

"Good," Sylvanas whispered against Anristina's cool skin. Suddenly she gripped Anristina's wrist and pulled her toward the center of the room; Anristina squealed childishly and followed, almost tripping in the process. At the side of Sylvanas' elegant, spacious bed, Sylvanas picked up Anristina as if she weighed nothing and tossed her onto the black velvet comforter. (While Sylvanas almost never slept, she still felt she was a queen worthy of a king-sized bed.) Anristina let out another giddy squeal as Sylvanas climbed onto the mattress to pin Anristina's wrists above her head and kiss her hungrily.

"Will my lady permit me to help remove her armor?" Anristina gasped between kisses.

Sylvanas took a moment to give Anristina's ample breasts an almost playful squeeze before replying. "Yes, I will."

Sylvanas pulled off her cloak, carefully guiding the ear-holes in her hood off of her long, pierced ears, and sat up. Anristina quickly went to work at the fastenings on Sylvanas' armor, but Forsaken hands were not deft. "Sylvanas, can you…?"

Sylvanas swiveled enough to press Anristina's hands between hers and transform her lover's hands to more ordinary human ones; Anristina had Sylvanas' chestpiece off within seconds and was covering Sylvanas' shoulder blades with kisses.

"You have such a beautiful back…"

"And you have odd tastes. You have complete access to the Dark Lady's body and you focus on my back? My ears I understand…" Anristina's hands slid up Sylvanas' ribs to cradle and massage her breasts. "Mmm…that's more like it…"

"You have beautiful archer muscles." Anristina kissed Sylvanas just below her neck. "You're beautiful all over."

Sylvanas sighed deeply. "Thank you, little healer."

"Will my lady please lie down so I can keep undressing her?"

"As long as you keep attending to my breasts, then absolutely yes."

Sylvanas lay on her back; Anristina fastened her mouth to the tip of one breast, her hands working busily at Sylvanas' remaining piece of armor and the cloth leggings beneath. She sat back on her heels to admire her lover's unprotected body, but not for long.

"Get back here, you." Sylvanas seized the front of Anristina's tunic and pulled her close, clenching her hand into a fist around a hank of the new curls as Anristina resumed her passionate work at Sylvanas' breasts, kissing one nipple and stroking the other. "Mmmm, I _like _being kissed there…" Encouraged, Anristina sharply drew air into her mouth, earning a startled gasp from Sylvanas in reply. "Yes…oh, Anristina, that's good…" Sylvanas rewarded Anristina's skilled ministrations by kneading her breasts through the cloth of her tunic.

Anristina whimpered. "I hope what I'm doing…_mmm_…feels half as good as that does…"

"Oh, yes," Sylvanas sighed, hooking one lean, strong leg over the curve of Anristina's hip. "More…"

Anristina suckled almost fiercely, her free hand gliding up and down the thigh that was pressed tightly to her side. She heard Sylvanas stifle a moan, felt her hips buck unexpectedly. "Is my lady ready? Does my lady want me inside her?"

"Yes," Sylvanas whispered through clenched teeth. She forced herself to unwrap her leg from Anristina's body and had to wait barely half a second before two of Anristina's fingers penetrated her deeply. Sylvanas gnashed her teeth in mingled frustration and pleasure. "Anristina, kiss my neck." Anristina obeyed and made no protest when Sylvanas sank her teeth into her shoulder.

Anristina covered Sylvanas' graceful neck with kisses, one hand passing back and forth over Sylvanas' breasts to tweak her hard nipples, the other hand thrusting into Sylvanas' body, striking the sweet spot within her that they both had been surprised was still sensitive after years of undeath. Sylvanas was quiet, as usual, and it was only because her teeth were still buried in Anristina's shoulder that Anristina felt more than heard her gasp of ecstasy. Anristina waited until the rocking of Sylvanas' hips ceased to stop stroking her and whisper: "Did I please you, Sylvanas?" Asking that question had become habit.

Sylvanas released the vise-like grip of her teeth and kissed Anristina's cheek. "You have never failed to please me…but I must say your technique is improving."

Anristina gave Sylvanas several warm kisses. "Thank you. It's…it's just good to know I can serve you well."

Sylvanas smiled up at Anristina, tenderly stroking her face and her hair. She was always most gentle and affectionate after sex. "What can I do for you tonight, my lovely healer? The usual?"

Anristina grinned. "Please."

"All right." Sylvanas sighed. "You and my ears…"

Anristina sat up and Sylvanas crawled and moved sleepily until her head was in Anristina's lap, then held still while Anristina lovingly massaged her long, graceful ears.

"I finally get to stay the night with you."

"Would you like to sleep?"

Sylvanas had become much more inclined to sleeping for at least four hours a night, because intimacy with Anristina made her so relaxed and comfortable that sleep seemed like a logical thing to do. Anristina would prefer to stay awake talking with Sylvanas, but she knew that Sylvanas' unusually genial mood would wear off soon, and she didn't want to lie awake wishing that Sylvanas would talk to her, or actually hold her instead of just holding her hand. "That sounds nice."

"I do wish you were comfortable undressing for me." Sylvanas reached up to caress Anristina's neck.

Anristina shrugged, not knowing what to say. She still felt utterly unbeautiful next to Sylvanas. "Maybe I will be someday."

"You should wear clothes that are more flattering to your beautiful body. I could have some custom pieces made for you."

Anristina found herself already planning to only wear such things around Sylvanas; unwanted attention was not something she felt like putting up with. But maybe some new raiments would help her feel better about her appearance, and then perhaps she could take some of them off in front of Sylvanas. "Thank you, my lady." She bent over to kiss Sylvanas to show her gratitude; Sylvanas kissed her back, deep and sweet.

* * *

><p>AN: Seriously, though, who wouldn't jump at the opportunity to pet Sylvanas' ears?


	3. Thori

Arrows in My Quiver

Chapter Three: Thori

Summary: Weary of believing that undead can experience nothing pleasurable, the Dark Lady takes a consort from the ranks of her Forsaken army. What she didn't know she also needed was reassurance of her people's faith in her.

Disclaimer: Characters, settings, etc. are the property of Blizzard Entertainment. Except for Anristina. She belongs to Sylvanas.

Pairings: Sylvanas/OC

Author's Notes: "Thori" is a word from the entry on Thalassian on the WoW wiki, which lists a bunch of words that show up as Thalassian in-game but don't actually mean anything. I have decided that "thori" means "rage" because it's my fic and I can do whatever I want.

* * *

><p>Sylvanas had many issues to attend to in Undercity for a few days. Anristina had duties at the Forsaken Front as well, but Sylvanas allowed Anristina to stay with her for two nights before ordering her back to her assigned post. Anristina was concerned about disobeying the order to be in Sylvanas' bed every night, but Sylvanas assured her that her duties to the Forsaken people were more important. "You're a fine healer, little one, but you are still a novice. You have much to learn, and I do not wish for you to fall behind the others who were recruited to the New Undercity Battalion with you because you are so attached to me."<p>

Sylvanas was in Undercity for nearly a week total. Every night, Anristina found herself wandering by the Dark Lady's tent, wishing she were inside with Sylvanas. The night Sylvanas returned from Undercity, she did so under cover of darkness and without fanfare, and Anristina only found out that she was back in Silverpine when she was interrupted in her reading of a spellcasting instructional scroll by a light scratch on the cloth of her tent.

"I'm coming." Anristina got up laboriously to open the tent flap. A Forsaken woman who had obviously been raised quite recently bowed her head respectfully. "Lady Anristina?"

"I'm no lady," said Anristina, startled.

"Oh." The woman looked flustered. "Perhaps this is the wrong tent…the Banshee Queen sent me to retrieve her consort."

"My name is Anristina, and I do indeed belong to the Banshee Queen. But I am not royal." The woman still looked puzzled, so Anristina continued. "We…discussed this. She's not at all fond of the term 'concubine', so she calls me 'consort' even though she has not given me a position of…of political power."

"Ah. Well…please come with me."

Despite the fact that she knew exactly where she was going, Anristina followed the woman to Sylvanas' tent. When they approached, Sylvanas stepped outside, having been alerted by the proximity charm.

It had only been a few days, but Anristina had already forgotten what an impression merely looking at Sylvanas could leave. It was as if she had an aura surrounding her that was more than necromantic energy; the air around her nearly crackled with raw charisma. She was the very image of power. Anristina wanted to drop to her knees and cling to Sylvanas' waist.

The woman who had been escorting Anristina curtseyed deeply. "Here she is, your majesty."

"Thank you, Vashaia. You are dismissed."

The woman nodded and ambled off. Sylvanas gracefully removed one gauntlet and extended her hand to Anristina, who cradled Sylvanas' wrist in both hands and touched soft kisses to the Dark Lady's fingertips and knuckles. "You are prepared to fulfill your duties for tonight, I trust?"

"Yes, my lady."

"Very well. Come inside."

Sylvanas moved the tent flap aside so Anristina could enter the tent. The flap had hardly closed when Anristina found herself drawn into a crushing embrace. "Oh, I missed you, Sylvanas," Anristina whispered, burying her face in Sylvanas' neck. "I trust your time in Undercity was productive?"

"Very." Sylvanas lightly tousled Anristina's curled hair. "You will stay the night here."

"Yes, Sylvanas." Anristina sighed. "I am happy to obey any order you issue me, but that's an order I particularly look forward to obeying."

Sylvanas released Anristina and kissed her. As Sylvanas almost never chose to initiate affection with anything but a command—the major exception being the night they had spent together in Undercity—and it was almost enough to make Anristina believe that Sylvanas had missed her too.

"Does my lady have anything special in mind for tonight?"

Sylvanas allowed herself a tiny smile. "I have you here. I find that special enough."

Anristina's undead body had been well-preserved enough that she was certain the sensation that her heart melted was an emotional one.

The next two weeks were some of the best of Anristina's unlife. Now that her relationship with Sylvanas was public, she was under strict orders to spend at least four hours per night in the Dark Lady's tent. More often than not, Sylvanas would light a four-hour sleeping incense stick and they would fall asleep holding hands. Despite Sylvanas' aversion to anything resembling cuddling, one night Anristina had dared to drape one arm around Sylvanas' waist and had not been met with complaints. The two of them also made another journey to Undercity to have Anristina's measurements taken by Josef Gregorian, the tailor; it turned out that Sylvanas fully intended to fulfill offer to have some new garments made for Anristina. Similar to the stunt they had pulled for Anristina's haircut, Sylvanas made an elaborate show of selecting styles and colors she thought would suit Anristina despite the fact that the two of them had already discussed it.

Since the order was made for the Banshee Queen herself, Gregorian worked night and day to create Anristina's new raiments, and two days after Sylvanas and Anristina visited him, a carefully wrapped package arrived by bat at the Forsaken Front and was promptly delivered to Sylvanas. So when Anristina arrived at Sylvanas' tent that night, Sylvanas presented her with the new gowns.

"Look what arrived today, my little healer."

"My new clothes?"

Sylvanas was seated on the floor beside a brown paper bundle marked "Gregorian Sartorial, Undercity – Tailored to your every need!"with thesubtitle "Specialty: Elbow-flaunting sleeves; take pride in your rot spots!" The undead elven woman beckoned to her consort. "Open it."

Anristina walked over to where Sylvanas was sitting and knelt beside the package of new clothes. She struggled a little with the twine keeping the wrapping paper in place, so Sylvanas shaped her hands to the form they had taken in life to give Anristina more fine motor control. Moving slowly to hide both her excitement and her apprehension, Anristina undid the twine and peeled back the layers of brown paper.

Inside were five folded-up priestly robes, styled to look rich but understated; the cuts were somewhat simple, but the craftsmanship was exquisite. Each one was a different color and a slightly different style. Atop the pile was a printed card that read: "Name: Anristina Vale. Preferred gender: Female. Skin tone: Pearl blue. Hair color: Midnight black. According to our expert Regional Color Analysis, you are BOREAL (50% Boreal, 20% Steppe, 20% Sylvan, 10% Desert). Enclosed please find a sample of color swatches that would Gregorian Sartorial thinks would look fantastic on YOU! We look forward to holding your custom again!"

"So I'm Boreal, am I?" Smiling, Anristina sifted through the contents of the package to find the color swatches. "I wish I were Sylvan. That's awfully close to your name, isn't it, my lady?"

"It is a coincidence. The Common word for 'of the forest' has a very different etymology than the Thalassian source of my name. But it is a pleasant coincidence." Sylvanas picked up the gown on the top of the pile, which was a lush cobalt with silver trim. The colors were incredibly vibrant and might have seemed garish to a living being, but Gregorian Sartorial (as well as most Forsaken tailors) went to extremes to help their dull-eyed undead customers brightly see the colors they were wearing. "This will look excellent on you." She handed the garment to Anristina. "Try it on."

Anristina took the proffered gown, but looked nervous. "Is…is that an order, my lady?"

Sylvanas' brow knitted slightly. "You will not disrobe for me even just to try on your new raiments?"

"Forgive me, Sylvanas." Anristina hung her head.

Sylvanas lifted Anristina's chin with one hand. "It is not a matter of asking for forgiveness so much as it is a matter of me being concerned that my little healer still can't understand how beautiful she is."

Anristina felt like crying. Sylvanas was kind enough to buy her new clothes to try to improve her self-image and Anristina still couldn't bring herself to be seen in just a pair of short leggings. Not to mention Sylvanas could easily order Anristina to undress, but wouldn't do that as long as Anristina was so uncomfortable. "I would not be opposed to my lady seeing me covered by undergarments, but all I am wearing under this is a pair of leggings."

Sylvanas thought for a moment. "You will answer my next question with complete honesty."

"Yes, your grace." Anristina was sure that if her heart could still beat, it would be racing.

"I know you find me attractive. Physically, what is your favorite attribute of mine?" To reassure Anristina, Sylvanas smiled slightly. "My ears are not an acceptable answer."

Anristina forced out an anxious laugh. "You do have beautiful ears." Not certain what Sylvanas' intentions were, she tried to answer as truthfully as possible, but it was a difficult question. Every inch of Sylvanas was gorgeous. "I am most fond of your strong legs."

Sylvanas nodded. "Very well. Return to your tent and change your clothes. You may put on whatever outerwear you wish—I would suggest something easy to remove—but underneath, I want you wearing undergarments in which you are comfortable being seen by me. I stipulate, though, that said undergarments must display your legs for me."

Ah.

"You will then return here and try on your new garments."

Anristina nodded. "Yes, my lady."

"Have you forgotten you have permission to use my name?"

"I have not…Sylvanas."

Anristina still looked visibly upset. Sylvanas moved closer to her and kissed her cheek. "What is it that troubles you? You seem to refer to me with honorifics more often when you are afraid or anxious."

"That's true." Anristina took Sylvanas' hand and squeezed it tightly. "I suppose I am afraid I will displease you. Surely almost any other Forsaken would be most willing to undress for you. These past two weeks with you have been wonderful, but I still can't bring myself to let you see my breasts."

"I know you are not ungrateful." Sylvanas leaned forward and softly brushed her lips against Anristina's, a gesture that Anristina now recognized as the thing Sylvanas chose to do when she was trying to comfort her. "Do you truly believe I would relieve you of your duties as my consort for something so insignificant?"

"I'm not sure if I believe it, but I certainly fear it. I'm nothing special. Surely someone else could serve you better." Anristina sniffled, struggling not to start weeping.

"I find you special, and I want no other consort but you."

Anristina impulsively flung her arms around Sylvanas. "I want to remain your consort."

"And you will." Sylvanas slid the fingers of one hand through Anristina's hair. "Now go and change. I want to see you in your new gowns. Perhaps your opinion of your appearance might be different after you see yourself in them."

Anristina pulled back from the embrace. "But…I have no full-length mirror, Sylvanas."

Sylvanas pointed to one corner of the tent, where Anristina noticed a full-length mirror leaning against one of the poles. It had not been there the previous day and Anristina could only assume Sylvanas had procured it for the purpose of Anristina seeing herself in her new clothes.

"Oh. I see you have one."

Sylvanas stood up, putting pressure on Anristina's elbow to encourage her to stand as well. "Hurry back, my little healer."

Anristina dared to stand on her tiptoes and lightly kiss Sylvanas' lips. "I will, my lady."

She ran back to her tent. Her two tentmates, Josepha and Diahan, were both out, so she didn't have to waste time concealing herself from them. After removing her robe, she dug through her clothes to find a pair of leggings that she had not worn for months since the dilapidated knees had finally given out. She tore the legs off so they would just reach mid-calf on her, then pulled them onto her body. Cursing herself for not keeping her clothes more organized, she hunted for an undershirt until she found one crumpled in a corner. After that, her robe had somehow managed to run off (or so it seemed), and she spent another few moments poking through a pile of clothes for it, this time bitterly cursing aloud in Gutterspeak.

At long last (at least it seemed like she took forever because she knew Sylvanas was waiting), she recovered her robe, replaced it, and hurried back to the Dark Lady's tent. When she arrived, Sylvanas had carefully laid out the five robes in preparation for Anristina to try them on. Anristina noticed that despite Sylvanas' suggestion that they be "flattering" to her body, none of them looked particularly revealing. The waistlines fell in different places, the skirts were different lengths, and the necklines were different shapes. "Is…is every one unique?"

"Well, there are many styles that would look good on you." Sylvanas crossed to stroke Anristina's cheek. "I trust you changed your clothes according to my orders?"

"Yes, Sylvanas, I did."

"Show me."

Anristina had so easily yanked off her dress to change her undergarments when in private, but in front of Sylvanas…she froze with her hands on the buttons of her dress.

"Anristina, I said…show me."

Ordinarily, Anristina's clawed Forsaken hands weren't particularly a problem when she removed her clothes. She tried slipping one of the buttons through its ascribed hole, but her fingers slipped and the tip of one finger severed a thread. The button fell to the floor.

"Nervous?" Sylvanas laid a hand on Anristina's shoulder. "What is it you are afraid of me seeing?" Her voice was soft. "Did Mordo do some work on you after you were raised? Do you have stitches or scars?"

Anristina shook her head. "No, I'm…intact. I had a kneecap replaced by one of the undertakers and that was all."

"Are you really concerned I will suddenly find you unappealing once I see you in your underclothes?"

Anristina said nothing for a moment. "I don't…I don't see you suddenly finding me unattractive after I take my robe off, no."

Sylvanas moved to stand behind Anristina, letting her hand trail over the ball of Anristina's shoulder down her back and to her waist. Anristina felt the Dark Lady's arms wrap around her midsection and pull her close. A soft, feathery light kiss was planted below her ear. "What are you afraid of?"

Anristina sighed. She could be nothing but completely honest when Sylvanas was holding her like that. At times, she was still barely able to process the fact that the famously aloof and cold Dark Lady was stroking her sides, her belly, her hips… "Only…only that I have always felt ugly."

"You are not ugly. You're lovely."

Anristina tried to turn her head to kiss Sylvanas. She couldn't quite reach Sylvanas' shoulder, so Sylvanas rested two fingertips beneath Anristina's chin and tilted it up. Anristina didn't get the deep, warm kiss she had been hoping for, but Sylvanas' lips lightly caressed hers. That little act of comfort again. "My lady…I think…I want to undress for you, but you may have to help me."

"You want me to undress you? Hm…and I thought that would make you less comfortable."

"Please, Sylvanas?"

Sylvanas did not respond, and for a moment, Anristina worried she had crossed line. She was Sylvanas' consort, not her loving partner. She was supposed to serve her Dark Lady unflinchingly; if Sylvanas Windrunner asked her to undress, she should undress. She shouldn't ask anything of Sylvanas that was in conflict with an order. "I'm sorry…I know you told me to undress…"

"I instructed you to show me that you had changed into different undergarments." Sylvanas' fingertips eased the second button on Anristina's robe out of its hole. "If I undress you, that end will still be accomplished."

Anristina closed her eyes. Unexpectedly, Sylvanas' touch was not particularly seductive; she methodically undid every button down to Anristina's waistline, careful to keep her hands from coming into contact with her consort's breasts. Once the buttons were undone, Sylvanas pushed the sleeves down and away from Anristina's arms so the bodice was completely off, then gathered up the skirt in both hands and lifted the entire garment over Anristina's head. "Now let me look at you."

Sylvanas took Anristina by the shoulders and turned her around. Anristina had to struggle to keep herself from covering herself with her arms. She kept her head down, not wanting to see Sylvanas' expression (or, more likely, lack thereof).

"I've said it before, and it is still true. You are lovely, my little healer."

Anristina looked up at Sylvanas' face. She was smiling. She looked quite unlike herself, but Anristina couldn't help but smile back.

"Look how strong you are." Sylvanas trailed her fingertips up the front of Anristina's thigh. "Good thing you were raised not too long after you died, or I wouldn't be able to see your beautiful muscles."

Anristina laid her head on Sylvanas' shoulder. "Thank you, my lady."

"Let's see some of those robes on you now." Sylvanas stroked Anristina's curls. "We'll decide which one you can wear tonight."

Anristina nuzzled the Banshee Queen's neck. "Tonight…while I'm serving you as your consort?"

Sylvanas laughed softly; Anristina felt her vocal cords vibrate. "Yes, my little one. I want to see you in one of your new robes while we're in bed together tonight."

Anristina wrapped her arms around Sylvanas. "Well, in bed-_roll_, actually. I miss being in your real bed in Undercity." She paused. "But I like the sound of that better than what I said."

"With which one would you like to start?"

Anristina turned her head to look at the elegantly made robes laid out for her. She could still barely believe they were hers. "I think…the cool gray one with the black rick-rack first. I like the style."

"Really? That is the robe with the lowest collar. That is the one you're most comfortable trying on first?"

Anristina smiled tremulously. "If you really think I'm beautiful, my lady…I should get used to letting you see my body."

Unexpectedly, Sylvanas squeezed Anristina so tightly it might have hurt had Anristina still been alive. "Good girl."

* * *

><p>When the four-hour sleep-cense stick burned out, Anristina woke almost immediately. She had fallen asleep dressed in a dark violet gown (her favorite because it was the same color as Sylvanas' armor) with one arm slung around Sylvanas' waist. "Sylvanas? My lady?"<p>

Sylvanas did not move; she was still sound asleep. The previous night (early morning, really; Anristina had spent quite a while indulging her feminine side by trying on all of the new robes) had left her quite exhausted, and Anristina had had to get up and start the incense burning because Sylvanas had been too worn out to move. Anristina decided to test how deeply Sylvanas was sleeping by reaching over to stroke one of her lovely pointed ears. The ear twisted back and flicked itself back into place like a cat's ear, as if in annoyance. Anristina buried her face in Sylvanas' shoulder to stifle the gale of laughter that erupted from her suddenly. Sylvanas stirred slightly, but fell back asleep quickly.

Feeling refreshed after her nap, Anristina sat up and leaned over to kiss Sylvanas' cheek. She got to her feet, stretching to work the tension from her uncooperative undead muscles. The four gowns that she had tried on a few hours ago had been tossed casually on the floor, so she folded and stacked them before smiling shyly at her reflection in the full-length mirror and leaving the tent. Once back in her tent, she changed into the gray robe, this time with no undershirt beneath it; it was indeed the most low-cut of her new garments, so seeing her in it would (hopefully) be a pleasant surprise for Sylvanas. Once she was changed, she picked up her instructional scroll again and began reading to herself about the Cure Disease spell.

There was a cursory scratching at the tent flap, and Diahan slipped inside. Anristina greeted her with a customary "Our time will come".

"Dark Lady watch over you," Diahan replied. She surveyed Anristina's new robe and added with a smirk, "Dark Lady watch over your chest, more like."

Anristina wondered, not for the first time, what the chances were of her being stuck in a tent with the one Forsaken who spoke of Sylvanas with such irreverence. Then again, Diahan had been plenty respectful of Sylvanas before she had found out about Anristina's new consort status; since then, she had teased Anristina mercilessly. "Di, you know I don't like it when you speak of my Dark Lady that way."

"Oh, she's _your _Dark Lady now? Really, Tina, she could have anyone she wants. She could be sleeping with a dozen other people and you'd have no call to complain."

Anristina took a deep breath and counted to ten, willing herself not to cry, because what Diahan had just said was completely true. "She likes it when I call her that."

Diahan shrugged. "Well, all right. Do you have any other special names for her?"

"Do you have any other ways besides invasive questions to be so disrespectful?" The moment the words left Anristina's mouth, she felt like an utter fool. She felt even more like an utter fool when Diahan burst into laughter.

"By the Old Gods, Tina, don't be so damn sensitive. I'm only kidding."

"'Kidding' is disrespectful," Anristina insisted. "You'd best not speak like that in front of Sylvanas. I'd ask her to have your tongue cut out."

Diahan sniffed. "I'd just get a new one."

There was a scratching at the tent flap and Josepha walked in. Anristina felt a flood of relief when she saw Josepha frown at Diahan. "Are you bothering Anristina again, Di?"

"I'm just teasing," Diahan insisted.

"And yesterday I punched Nezzu so hard his jaw fell off for 'teasing' me about my voice. Let up on Anristina, would you?" Josepha made her hands into fists and planted them on her hips. Josepha Blacksling, formerly Joseph Blacksmith, had been fully physically changed into a woman but for her vocal cords, but she still stood six feet two inches tall and was powerfully muscled. Diahan had teased her about resembling a Tauren woman once. Only once.

Diahan made a moue and retreated to her corner of the tent.

"Dark Lady watch over you, Josepha," said Anristina, trying to make the greeting sound like a thank-you as well.

"Trust no one," replied Josepha with a smile, cutting a significant glance at Diahan's turned back. Anristina grinned.

"So what did Undertaker Abirad say?"

"He thinks my new jaw is holding up nicely, but he still only has one set of vocal cords available for me and wants to wait until there are more options for me to try them."

Anristina nodded understandingly. "He did do an excellent job on your jaw. I can't recall—did he also remove your Sargeras' target?"

Josepha touched the scar on her throat where the distinctly male protuberance had once been almost fondly. "No, that was his apprentice, Esmert."

"Oh, right. Are you still planning on making stewed sewer cap mushrooms for the undertakers when your transition is finished?"

"Twisting Nether, yes!" Josepha sat down next to Anristina. "I just got back from working with Eunice Burch. She had me picking Stillwater lilies this time."

"I'm trying to sharpen my sword over here," Diahan called out irritably.

"How many Scarlet Crusade grunts has that sword actually cut, Scarletbane?" Josepha responded cheerily, referring to Diahan's chosen Forsaken surname.

"At least I use my sword!" Diahan shot back. "You're a hunter; that ugly spider of yours does all the work for you!"

Josepha ignored her. "You're looking starlit, Anristina. Is that a new robe?"

"It is." Anristina smoothed the cloth over her thighs. "The Dark Lady had these made especially for me. Josef Gregorian made them himself."

Josepha nodded approvingly. "I'll have to stop by Gregorian Sartorial next time I go to see Eunice."

"He does great work. You might want to have him take your measurements, though. Sylvanas had him take mine before he made my gowns."

"Hmm," Josepha said. "That might be more expensive."

"But probably worth it. All the gowns he made me are gorgeous."

Diahan let out an exaggerated gasp of exasperation. Anristina had had about enough as well. "It's nice out. I'm going to study outside." She rolled up her scroll, got up, and left the tent. Josepha's spider, Phaye, was tied to a post outside, and it looked up at her with six hopeful eyes. Anristina had hated spiders when she was alive, but Forsaken hunter spiders were different. "Sorry, Phaye, I don't have a snack for you." Phaye clicked her pincers unhappily and sank to the ground, eight legs curled beneath her.

The sun was rising. Anristina wandered the camp until she found a large tree stump that looked comfortable enough. She sat down, angling herself so the sun illuminated the scroll. Her reading of it had been interrupted so many times she decided to start from the beginning.

She was about halfway through the scroll, completely immersed, when a hand fell suddenly on her shoulder. "You're the Dark Lady's new consort, aren't you?"

Anristina jumped. The voice was male and the implication was indecent. She tried to pull away, but the grip on her shoulder was tight. She twisted her head around to see who was talking to her; it was one of the apothecaries, a man by the name of Putrescine.

"Yes, I'm Anristina Vale." Anristina felt immensely uncomfortable, but couldn't place why. Forsaken eyes were hard to track, as they had no pupils or irises, but it felt like Putrescine was examining her chest.

"Sylvanas clearly has excellent taste."

Convinced something was wrong, Anristina tried to get up, but Putrescine pushed her back down with both hands on her shoulders. "I have to study. Sylvanas wants me to continue improving my priestly skills."

"So she doesn't allow you special concessions. Hmm." His voice was oily, slimy, like a reptile that could speak.

Anristina took a deep breath. "Go away, Apothecary Putrescine. I have to study." Her voice trembled.

"I don't think Sylvanas would mind…sharing you."

The pressure of his hands was gone from her shoulders, and for a split second she thought she was free. She dropped the scroll and bolted…or at least she tried. She only made it a yard or so when she felt the unwanted arms tighten around her waist, and a scream ripped itself from her throat. "Sylvanas! Help me! Sylvanas!"

One of the clawed hands clamped roughly over her breast. "The Dark Lady is immensely busy. Too busy to worry about her toys."

Anristina went mad. She struggled wildly, lashing out behind her with her elbows. She felt one of her crazed blows land in the center of the apothecary's face. His grip on her loosened and as she pulled away, she sensed something flying by her face, missing her nose by about ten centimeters. The object whizzed into a tree and stuck; it was an arrow, the head buried completely in the bark. Pierced by the thin shaft and dangling just next to the fletching was one of Apothecary Putrescine's ears.

She heard her assailant stuttering apologies. "Your Majesty, I meant no harm…please…"

Anristina whirled around. Perhaps inadvertently, she had chosen a spot to read that was not far from Sylvanas' tent…and Sylvanas had heard her cries for help.

The Banshee Queen stood about fifteen yards behind Putrescine, bow raised, another arrow already nocked. Her eyes blazed with fury barely kept in check, her every muscle taut like a wildcat ready to spring; the very image of menace. Even Anristina, overwhelmed with relief at the sight of her Dark Lady, felt a tiny frisson of fear. "Anristina." Her voice was commanding as only the voice of Sylvanas Windrunner could be. "Come here."

Anristina had never run so quickly in her life. Later she would not remember running, only Sylvanas' voice and then having her arms wrapped tightly around Sylvanas' waist, her face buried in her neck. "It would appear that you _did _mean Anristina harm."

Anristina heard the _twang _of the Sunstrider's Longbow, followed almost immediately by the _thunk _of the arrow striking its final target. She risked turning her head slightly to see what had just happened; Apothecary Putrescine now had no ears, and his second ear was pinned to a different tree.

A small crowd had gathered nearby; apparently several people had heard Anristina's cries for help. Sylvanas lowered her bow to place one hand on the center of Anristina's back. A moment later, Sylvanas spoke again, and this time her voice was pure authority.

"This disgusting slime can no longer hear me, but let my message be utterly clear: the next person foolish enough to touch Anristina Vale without her permission will lose something much more important than their ears. And as for _this _worthless, festering maggot…" Sylvanas paused, surveying the crowd. "Blacksling. Orris."

Anristina heard footsteps as the two Forsaken Sylvanas had addressed stepped forward. She looked up hopefully, thinking one of them might be Josepha, but both of them were male warriors; "Blacksling" was a fairly common Forsaken name. "Escort Putrescine to the deepest hole you can find and drop him in it; I don't care what's at the bottom. Be creative." She paused. "Return to me when it's done. I have other matters to attend to." Sylvanas lowered her voice to a whisper meant only for Anristina. "Come with me, my little healer."

Anristina could barely walk. Sylvanas' arm around her waist was the only thing keeping her upright. Somehow she made it to Sylvanas' tent, where Sylvanas sat down and pulled Anristina into her lap. Anristina realized she was making noise; she was weeping loudly, tears pouring unchecked down her face. "Hush, my sweet," Sylvanas soothed, guiding Anristina's head to her shoulder. "I'm here. Your Dark Lady has you."

"I couldn't stop him," Anristina sobbed. "He just…he just came up behind me…I couldn't stop him…it happened so fast…"

"You'll never see him again." Sylvanas rocked Anristina back and forth. "He's gone."

"I couldn't do anything. I was so afraid," Anristina babbled. "I felt so…so helpless…I tried to get away, but I wasn't strong enough…I was so afraid…"

"I know how it feels. Trust me, my little one, I know how that feels." Sylvanas stroked Anristina's hair.

"You saved me," Anristina whispered.

"I heard you scream. I've never heard you sound so terrified."

"I've never been so terrified. Even when I was killed…" Anristina was choked off by another sob. "Thank you for saving me. Putrescine…he said…he said you wouldn't care."

"Of course I care if my little one is assaulted." Sylvanas sounded almost indignant.

"Still," Anristina whispered. "Thank you."

"You're shaking. Shall I make you some tea? That might calm you down."

Anristina wanted to stay in Sylvanas' arms, but she knew Sylvanas was not fond of being held or cuddled. "I would like some tea."

Sylvanas helped Anristina to the bedroll so she would be more comfortable, then set about searching among the few comestibles she kept in her tent. "I've always found herbal teas comforting…what would you say to ginseng peppermint?"

"That sounds nice."

Sylvanas set a kettle of water to boiling. Anristina wasn't sure whether or not she used magic. After a short time, she added the tea leaves and set the tea to sit.

"Smells good," Anristina whispered.

Sylvanas reached over to caress Anristina's hair again. "You're still shaking." She sighed. "You want me to hold you, don't you?"

Anristina closed her eyes. "I know you don't like to…to snuggle."

Sylvanas climbed onto the bedroll and pulled Anristina's head into her lap, bending over to kiss her consort's face. Anristina turned her face up to accept a few light kisses on her mouth. "May I stay here for…for a few hours, my lady?"

"Would that make you feel better?"

"Yes."

"Then you may stay." Sylvanas laid a hand on Anristina's forehead. "I'm sorry this happened to you. I try to…well, I'm most unpleasantly surprised that I couldn't trust all my apothecaries."

"At least all he did was grab one of my breasts," Anristina said rather miserably. "I shouldn't have worn this robe."

"Don't say that." Sylvanas' voice was stern. "You should be able to wear whatever you please and it isn't an invitation for someone to take advantage of you. _Especially _without your consent." Her voice softened. "Although you do look lovely."

"My lady…I have an odd request."

Sylvanas raised her eyebrows. "Yes?"

"He…he touched one of my breasts, like I said…could you…could you please…" Anristina took a deep breath. "I can still feel it. I'd rather…I'd rather have memories of you."

Sylvanas trailed one hand down Anristina's neck, past her collarbone to gently cup one of her consort's breasts.

"How did you know…?"

"Putrescine is left-handed."

Anristina sighed. "That feels so good."

"I'm barely doing anything."

Anristina turned her head to the side and kissed Sylvanas' knee. "It's still you touching me."

"Your tea will be ready soon."

"I'll drink it when it's ready. Not before." Anristina placed her hand over Sylvanas', keeping it in place.

"All right, my little one."

When the tea was ready, Sylvanas got up and poured a cup for Anristina.

"Why are you taking care of me?" Anristina held out both her hands for the cup and took a sip. "You let this steep for a long time, didn't you?"

"I did. How did you know?"

"Because I can actually taste it." Anristina smiled tremulously. "It is comforting."

Sylvanas kissed Anristina's forehead. "I have duties to attend to. I slept a bit late today."

Anristina's grin widened. "I'm sorry about that."

"Oh, no apology necessary, my sweet. I'll post a guard outside to make sure no one troubles you while you're gone." She paused. "And to answer your question, I'm taking care of you because I care about you."

"Sylvanas…when Putrescine attacked me, I dropped the scroll I was reading. It's for Cure Disease. I keep trying to finish it…would you mind sending someone to bring it to me?"

Sylvanas nodded. "Your trainer must be quite pleased with what a good student you are. I will send someone with the scroll."

"Thank you, my lady."

"I'll see you tonight." Sylvanas shouldered her quiver. "I have to visit Undercity for a few hours."

Anristina put down her mug and stood up. "May I kiss you goodbye?"

Sylvanas gave Anristina a kiss that was cursory, but not unfeeling. "Take care of yourself."

"I will. And my lady, I know…I know I say this too much, but…thank you."

Sylvanas paused at the tent flap before exiting. "You are welcome."

* * *

><p>AN: Yeah, messing with someone Sylvanas cares about is a Bad Idea. It would appear there are pervs in every crowd, even the Forsaken.

Ask Anristina something: http:/ ask – anristina . tumblr . com


	4. Sin'dorei

Arrows in My Quiver

Chapter Four: Sin'dorei

Summary: Weary of believing that undead can experience nothing pleasurable, the Dark Lady takes a consort from the ranks of her Forsaken army. What she didn't know she also needed was reassurance of her people's faith in her.

Disclaimer: Characters, settings, etc. are the property of Blizzard Entertainment. Except for Anristina. She belongs to Sylvanas.

Pairings: Sylvanas/OC

Author's Notes: In my headcanon, blood elves are all middle schoolers. I have a feeling that's somewhat canon, too. Warnings/kinks: Sylvanas chomps. More than usual. (I probably should have done a warning like that for Atrocities, too...whoops...)

* * *

><p>Non-Forsaken rarely traveled through Silverpine Forest, so the entire camp (at least, those who bothered to care) was surprised when a young female blood elf casually meandered through on a red dragonhawk. Sylvanas was not about to have her people distracted from their duties by an errant wanderer, insisted on meeting the interloper.<p>

The sin'dorei was only too glad to meet the former Ranger-General of Silvermoon in person. Too glad, Anristina thought. There was something about her that oozed both deceit and conceit, more suited to a rogue than a warrior. Sylvanas, of course, had refused an audience unless she could bring Forsaken escorts, and she chose Anristina and a warrior named Kolwryn Styrax to accompany her. Anristina wondered if Sylvanas had chosen Kolwryn to deliberately make the blood elf feel uncomfortable; since Kolwryn had been raised, he had made the apothecaries help her look as androgynous as possible and answered to either male or female pronouns. The contents of Kolwryn's trousers were a subject of much debate. As far as Anristina knew, gender presentation like Kolwryn's was not common in other races.

When the blood elf was allowed her audience with Sylvanas, she did at least curtsey deeply, but there was something mocking in the movement, not unlike Sylvanas' infamous salute to the Warchief when he had demanded to know the difference between Sylvanas and Arthas. Anristina bristled, but remained quiet; she was rapidly discovering that the quickest way to annoy her was to be disrespectful toward Sylvanas. The blood elf spoke to Sylvanas in Thalassian, and Anristina felt suddenly unnerved; she knew only a little Thalassian and hated hearing what someone was saying to her Dark Lady but not understanding.

"I was of the sin'dorei, but you will speak in a language that my people can understand," said Sylvanas coolly in Orcish.

The blood elf responded in Thalassian again, but Anristina heard the word "Gutterspeak" somewhere in her sentence.

"Considering the sin'dorei allegiance to the Horde, I should think it would not be too taxing to speak Orcish," Sylvanas replied, her voice turning just a bit colder. Anristina found herself thinking that many people could speak coldly or icily, but Sylvanas was fluent in at least fifteen gradations of cold. "And you are?"

"Corlissa Palemorn, may it please Your Majesty," said the sin'dorei in Orcish.

Anristina could have slapped her. That was what she had said to Sylvanas the first time Sylvanas had asked her name. That wasn't fair. The elf's name was appropriate, though; her skin and eyes were very light and her long ponytail was moon white. She was slender, willowy and exquisitely beautiful.

"And what brings you to Silverpine Forest?" Sylvanas was all formality.

"Well, I suppose you could call it wanderlust." Corlissa crossed her shins, scratching at the ground with one toe. "And of course…I was intrigued to see what had become of the Ranger-General of Silvermoon. The Banshee Queen of the undead is certainly a fascinating figure." She smiled prettily and Anristina felt a lead ball drop in her stomach. Corlissa hadn't come to Silverpine Forest because she was traveling widely; she had come to play coy with Sylvanas. Anristina lost a short battle with her instincts and reached for the quarterstaff lashed to her back.

"Anristina…stand down, little healer," Sylvanas cautioned in Gutterspeak. Corlissa made a moue, clearly annoyed that Sylvanas had spoken a language she didn't understand. Reluctantly, Anristina replaced her quarterstaff. At least Sylvanas had spoken to her affectionately in front of other Forsaken; she'd never done that before in any language.

"Your people are certainly protective," said Corlissa with a touch of snideness.

"My Forsaken would walk to the most hazardous and devastated wastes of Outland and back if I ordered them," Sylvanas replied mildly.

"Lady Sylvanas, I am most intrigued to see more of your fascinating people's camp. Might we take a stroll?" Corlissa swung her leg over her dragonhawk's back and slid onto the saddle; the animal squawked lightly in protest. "I think this might be quicker, though I'm afraid I might be pushing poor little Waechar too hard." She patted the dragonhawk's neck. "You see, I am more used to epic mounts."

Upon seeing the smirk that accompanied that comment, it took every ounce of Anristina's self-control not to smash her quarterstaff into the blood elf's face.

Sylvanas looked utterly unfazed, but her ears made an odd motion Anristina had not seen before. It was almost as if they twitched, but in a controlled way that caused their tips to draw tiny semicircles in the air. "A stroll around the camp...a reasonable request, I suppose." Her tone revealed absolutely nothing. Anristina found herself praying that one day she would be able to read Sylvanas when she refused to emote. As much as she cared for Sylvanas, the beautiful banshee was still as inaccessible to her as she was to everyone else.

"Styrax. Vale. You will accompany us. Styrax, fetch my steed. Vale, come here to me."

Anristina moved, her knees stiff as if she were still fresh from the grave. She knew Sylvanas was being formal because of the blood elf's presence, but still...being summoned like a dog? "Yes, Your Majesty?" she quavered in Orcish, for the sake of transparency.

Sylvanas replied in Gutterspeak, looking directly into Anristina's eyes. "You are still permitted to use my given name, even in public." She paused. "Your face is an open book. Be steady, my little one."

"Yes, my lady." The affectionate name was small comfort. Anristina made a little bow and fell back.

"In Silvermoon City, they say that you are no longer 'Sylvanas'. It's said that your newfound cruelty is unprecedented, and yet you coddle your followers." Corlissa gave a sideways smile. "Are you always so...affectionate?"

"Anristina is a promising healer. With the future of my people so uncertain and our only way of propagating being the target of infinite disdain, it would be foolish of me not to nourish new talent. My Forsaken are not mindless drones, after all."

Anristina couldn't help but admire the way Sylvanas seemed to always have a quick, intelligent reply for anything tossed at her.

"Ah. So they aren't just...hmm, how does one translate that expression...'arrows in your quiver'? An appropriate expression, considering your prowess with archery."

This time, Sylvanas took a moment to reply, at least verbally; her ears did something that could only be described as shivering. "Have my former people all developed such bold tongues in the time since my death?" There was an edge to her voice, like a razor blade wrapped in candyfloss.

Anristina didn't know what was troubling Sylvanas, but it was clear enough to her that something was wrong. So she spoke up, trying to sound defiant. "As long as we are loyal, the Dark Lady watches over us." Her Orcish needed work—it was an ugly tongue, in Anristina's opinion, and she spent little time mastering it—but she was fairly sure she got everything right.

Corlissa smirked again. Anristina wanted to yell something about how her face would stay that way if she kept making that expression. "This one's feisty. You seem to have that...effect, Lady Windrunner." The blood elf licked her lips.

_If you do that again, I will blast your head off_, Anristina seethed mentally.

Fortunately, Kolwryn returned with Sylvanas' skeletal horse at that moment. Sylvanas climbed into the saddle after cursorily thanking Kolwryn. Anristina walked beside Sylvanas' steed as the Dark Lady pointed out the landmarks of the Forsaken camp to the curious blood elf. Eventually Anristina tuned out, as if her ears had simply stopped working. She felt as deaf as the apothecary who had molested her and had his ears shot off. Sylvanas had been so quick to defend her. Why was she giving this overly daring, prurient sin'dorei the time of day? Diahan's words echoed nastily in her head: Really, Tina, she could have anyone she wants. She could be sleeping with a dozen other people and you'd have no call to complain. So Sylvanas found Anristina attractive. Anristina knew that. But how long had it been since Sylvanas had been able to enjoy the intimate company of another elf? Anristina knew she would never be able to hold a candle to even the homeliest sin'dorei, if homely sin'dorei even existed.

Before Anristina knew it, the farce tour of the Forsaken outpost was over. Sylvanas and Corlissa were both on the ground, Corlissa standing far too close to Sylvanas. Anristina felt her ears ring as Corlissa boldly reached out, seemingly for Sylvanas' face, but instead her hand stretched toward one of the long ears that Anristina loved to fondle. Anristina stayed long enough to watch Sylvanas' ear fold down against her head to avoid the blood elf's touch before she bolted. Sylvanas could have whoever she wanted, but that didn't mean Anristina had to bear witness.

When darkness fell, Anristina did not go to Sylvanas' tent. She was fairly sure Sylvanas would be with Corlissa. Of course the Dark Lady would not be so classless as to respond to Corlissa's advances in public, but Anristina found it unlikely that she would refuse a "private audience" with a gorgeous blood elf. And what would the elf's repugnant (but likely common among sin'dorei) personality matter for one impersonal night?

But after the sun set, Anristina heard a light scratching at her tent. Praying for a distraction from distressing (albeit beautiful) mental images of Sylvanas and Corlissa, Anristina opened the tent flap. Much to her surprise, Sylvanas herself stood outside.

"You're late, my little healer."

Anristina's eyes found the floor. "My lady, I want only to be your loyal consort. But I don't think I can bear watching you with someone else."

"What are you talking about?" asked the banshee severely.

Anristina swallowed. "I thought you'd be with that...that sin'dorei."

Sylvanas sighed. "Come with me." She gripped Anristina's wrist tightly and pulled her along. Anristina followed, though she didn't exactly have a choice. She knew they were heading back to Sylvanas' tent. Anristina bit her lower lip; was Sylvanas going to punish her?

As soon as they were back in Sylvanas' tent, within the range of the soundproofing charms, Sylvanas spoke. "What in the name of the Life-Binder made you think I would give Corlissa Palemorn a spare half-second?"

Anristina still couldn't look at Sylvanas' face. "I thought...I thought you'd never accept her advances in public because you have a reputation to uphold. But she was a lot more beautiful than I am, and she's an elf like you..."

"Yes, she is. She was also painfully transparent in her attempt to get into bed with me, which she likely would have used only for bragging rights. Now, I saw you run off, but you were there when Corlissa tried to touch my ear, right?"

Anristina nodded.

"You saw me refuse her touch on my ear. That is a point-blank refusal to acknowledge her advances."

"Sylvanas, I'm sorry, I didn't know," Anristina whispered.

Sylvanas touched Anristina's cheek. "I suppose as a former human, you don't know enough about ear culture to understand what was going on."

Anristina clasped Sylvanas' hand to her face. "Ear culture? I mean, I saw your ears moving a lot, and hers too..."

"Quel'dorei and sin'dorei are very proud of our ears." Sylvanas allowed herself a small smile. "There is a system of body parlance that allows communication with only ear motions. Her attempt to touch my ear was very brazen, and that I didn't allow it left her with absolutely no hope that I would respond to her advances." Sylvanas traced Anristina's cheekbone with her thumb.

"Oh," said Anristina in a small voice.

"Why would I waste my time with a pathetic wisp like Corlissa when I have you? I might use some damn fool metaphor about going to the market to buy Thunder Ale when you have a private stock of Moonglow, but I would be absolutely _loath_ to compare a complex person like you to a beverage." Sylvanas gently brushed her lips against Anristina's, turning the now familiar gesture of assuagement into a deep kiss. Anristina felt herself gathered into the Dark Lady's embrace and, since Sylvanas had initiated the contact, slid her hands over Sylvanas' bare back without fear.

"Will my lady please change the shape of my hands?"

"I will. And then you will remove my armor."

Anristina pecked Sylvanas a kiss. "Yes, I will."

Sylvanas clapped Anristina's hands between her own and, with a slight crunch, Anristina's hands were transformed back to the shape they had been while she was alive. Immediately, Anristina set about removing Sylvanas' gauntlets and arm guards, covering her hands and wrists with kisses, grateful that her harebrainedness had been forgiven. Sylvanas closed her eyes, obviously enjoying being gently undressed by her consort. _Would she have let Corlissa see her like this? I don't think so._ She had removed Sylvanas' chest piece and shoulder guards enough times that she could now do it without looking, so she did so while kissing Sylvanas' neck and shoulders. She leaned back to carefully lift Sylvanas' hood over her long ears, because if she disrupted Sylvanas' ears, they would automatically make a flicking motion that Anristina found completely adorable. She could never help but laugh, and Sylvanas didn't like being seen as so undignified.

"My lady is so incredibly beautiful," Anristina whispered, lowering herself to a kneeling position. Sylvanas had impeccable balance and was able to stand on one foot while Anristina pulled off her boots and various leg protectors. When Sylvanas was standing in just the dark green breeches she wore beneath her armor, Anristina held on to her hips and rested her cheek against the Dark Lady's thigh. "Does she forgive her foolish consort?"

Sylvanas caressed Anristina's scalp and hair with one hand. "All is forgiven, my little one."

Anristina hooked her fingertips into the waistband of Sylvanas' breeches, looking up inquiringly.

"Not yet, my sweet. You will first undress for me. Or, if you prefer, I can undress you."

Anristina loved having Sylvanas take her clothes off, but Sylvanas was letting her off scot-free for her misjudgment, so she obeyed the initial order. Her hands still shook slightly as she unbuttoned her dress, but she had been half-naked in front of Sylvanas before, and she was wearing a pair of leggings and an undershirt. She dropped her gown on the floor beside her.

Sylvanas interlaced her fingers behind Anristina's back. "Does my lady want me in her bedroll with her tonight?" Anristina whispered, leaning forward so hers and Sylvanas' foreheads were touching.

"Why, yes, she does." Sylvanas trailed her hands up and down her consort's sides, teasing Anristina's undershirt up just an inch or so.

Anristina bit her lower lip. "Does my lady want me to...to continue undressing?"

"Only if you're comfortable doing so." Sylvanas pulled Anristina close and gently nipped at her earlobe. "Why don't you lie down?"

Anristina walked to Sylvanas' bedroll, sure that if her heart could still beat, it would be racing. She lay down and Sylvanas went with her, draping herself over Anristina, covering her rather than pinning her down. Sylvanas let one hand trail from Anristina's hair down her cheek and her throat, her nails lightly scraping the skin to make sure Anristina could feel her touch. "It would be lovely if you could take this off..." Sylvanas tugged lightly at the collar of Anristina's undershirt.

Sylvanas' voice was low and heady, the most seductive sound Anristina had ever heard. Her insecurities forgotten, shoved aside by the desire to feel the Dark Lady's touch on her naked skin, Anristina practically clawed off her own shirt. Her head tilted back as she felt Sylvanas cover her breasts with kisses, each touch of her lips accompanied by the tiniest puncture of her sharp canine teeth. Despite her undeath, despite her misgivings about her own appearance, despite her belief that she didn't believe she deserved to be treated so exquisitely by Sylvanas, Anristina felt her body stirring in response. "Sylvanas, I'm not...I'm not sure...what is it that my lady requires of me tonight?"

"Tonight will be a bit different, my sweet." Sylvanas sat up halfway to cradle the back of Anristina's head in one hand and kiss her warmly. "Tonight, the Dark Lady will serve you as you have served her."

Anristina trembled. "I am not worthy, Sylvanas, my lady."

Sylvanas kept her one hand on Anristina's head, holding her almost possessively, but the other hand slid down Anristina's thigh to drape her leg over Sylvanas' hip. Anristina squirmed, aching to be closer. "Do you want this, my little one?"

"I...I..."

"No foolish thoughts of worthiness this time. Simply tell me of your desires." Sylvanas paused to kiss Anristina, carefully pulling her consort's lower lip into her mouth and biting. Then she leaned to whisper near Anristina's ear: "Do you wish for me to take you to bed for the purpose of giving you pleasure?"

At least that was an easy answer. "Yes," Anristina moaned. "Oh, yes."

"Kiss me."

Anristina did. Sylvanas' kisses were warm, deep, insistent; Anristina wrapped her arms around the Dark Lady, savoring the kisses as the strong, bow-callused hands glided over her, her nails leaving long, shallow scratches. They did not hurt; instead, they tingled rather pleasantly. Anristina bit back a groan.

"You can cry out, my sweet, my beautiful little one. The soundproofing charm is still in effect."

"But you're so quiet..."

"You think I don't like hearing how much you're enjoying this?" Sylvanas cooed gently; in contrast to her soft voice, she pinched one of Anristina's nipples hard. Anristina squealed sharply.

"Mmm! More, please!"

"You know I bite," whispered Sylvanas silkily.

"That's all right," Anristina panted.

"Look at me, my sweet."

Obediently, Anristina met Sylvanas' eyes. "What is it?"

"If anything isn't 'all right', if your old misgivings are troubling you, if you change your mind...you must tell me."

Anristina nodded. "Yes, my lady."

Satisfied that Anristina would be open with her, Sylvanas returned to her fiercely sweet kisses, her hands working at Anristina's breasts with a practiced passion that made Anristina think her own attempts to pleasure Sylvanas had been clumsy in comparison. Anristina wrapped a hand around a hank of Sylvanas' hair, trying to hold her head in place for continued kisses but too shy to push too hard. She moaned against Sylvanas' mouth as she felt the Dark Lady's nails grazing her breasts.

"Too much?" Sylvanas whispered.

"No. No, keep going. Please keep going."

"My little one is so polite." Sylvanas sank her teeth into the base of Anristina's neck, earning another squeal, followed by a soft groan as Sylvanas kissed the bite mark. "Really, Tina?"

"That was a good scream," Anristina whispered back. "I know you like to bite and I have no...um...word...objections."

"Really? Well, all right." Sylvanas bit down on her consort's shoulder, hard enough that it would have drawn blood from a living person. When she continued in that vein down to Anristina's chest, Anristina arching her back into the bites and moaning softly when Sylvanas covered the deep marks she had left with kisses. "How does that feel?"

"It hurts."

Sylvanas sat up to stroke her consort's face. "Is it an...unpleasant pain, or does it feel good?"

Anristina clutched Sylvanas' shoulders, her claws (which had reverted back to normal) penetrating several layers of skin. "It...it hurts...so, so good. I can...I can actually feel it!"

"Hmm. Well, there's my answer." Sylvanas locked her lips onto the tip of Anristina's right breast, suckling and biting, if not quite as hard.

"Mmm! I like that!"

"I know you do, my sweet." Her mouth still at Anristina's breast and one hand attending to the other one, Sylvanas reached up to cup the other undead woman's cheek.

"Sylvanas...my beautiful lady...wait." Anristina clapped her hand over Sylvanas', keeping it pressed to her face. "Will you change my hands again?"

"Hmm. I was rather enjoying your hands the way they are..." Sylvanas rolled her shoulders back and forth to feel the scratches Anristina had left there.

"I'd...I'd like to hold your hand, though."

Sylvanas laughed softly. "Such a little romantic you are. All right." Sylvanas pressed Anristina's hands between her own and, a small _crunch_ later, Anristina had dextrous human hands, which she immediately used to thread through Sylvanas' hair.

"My lady is so generous to me."

"My little healer is so good to me. She deserves the same in return." Sylvanas dipped her head, going back to her work at Anristina's breasts; this time she held up her free hand, and Anristina clutched it tightly.

"Sylvanas...I'm so...so lucky..."

"So am I, my darling."

Anristina's hand shook as she stroked one of Sylvanas' ears between her thumb and forefinger, trying to be gentle even though her whole body was trembling with excitement; her undead body wasn't used to such intense feelings, and she was practically seizing. "My lady..."

"Are you all right? You're shaking so hard." Still cupping one of her consort's breasts in one hand, Sylvanas sat up and pulled Anristina into her lap.

"I want you," Anristina whimpered. "I want you. Please don't stop."

Sylvanas dropped a small kiss on Anristina's mouth. "Give me a moment." She got up to rifle through her belongings; Anristina lay back, sprawled with her arms out and her legs open. "Anristina, my sweet? I have something for you." Sylvanas was holding a small jar of some kind of clear gel.

"What's that?" Anristina quavered.

"Just something the apothecaries whip up for Forsaken who want to experience pleasure again. It should make you a little more sensitive. Are you interested?"

Anristina nodded. "Oh, yes."

Sylvanas unscrewed the top of the jar and tipped two fingertips into the gel. Anristina moaned as Sylvanas tenderly applied the stuff in between Anristina's legs, inside her, over the small cluster of long-dormant nerves that made Anristina cry out and tilt her hips up into Sylvanas' touch as sensation came flooding back. "How does that feel?"

"Nice. It...it kind of tingles. It's almost like warmth. It feels good." She looked up pleadingly. "Please, please keep touching me."

"I had something else in mind." Sylvanas beckoned. "Sit up." It was a command, spoken in a low, satiny purr. Feeling almost hypnotized, Anristina did as Sylvanas ordered. "My pretty little healer is such a good girl. Now, get up on your knees."

Anristina did, and found herself gathered into Sylvanas' arms, their legs entwined so Sylvanas had one of Anristina's thighs pinned to the bedroll. Anristina found herself leaning backward, supported by Sylvanas' tight embrace. Her head lolled back as she felt the join of Sylvanas' legs press tightly against her newly awakened flesh. "Mmmm...oh, Sylvanas..."

"It feels good, doesn't it?" Sylvanas whispered.

"S-so good."

Sylvanas' hands were on Anristina's back, the priest's spine bent back and her hands clutching Sylvanas' shoulders hard enough to bruise had Sylvanas been alive. "My sweet, why don't you either lie on your back or let me hold you closer? You don't look particularly comfortable."

"I'm comfortable as long as I'm with you," Anristina panted, but she leaned forward to wrap her arms around Sylvanas and kiss her shoulder. She whimpered as Sylvanas hooked a hand around the back of Anristina's knee, holding the captured leg against her side. Anristina was completely under Sylvanas' control, and she adored it.

"You can tell me if you want me to stop."

Anristina kissed the base of Sylvanas' neck. "You may do whatever you want with me, Sylvanas, my beautiful Dark Lady."

Sylvanas made a low noise that could only be described as a growl. "You...are perfect."

Anristina shouted in mingled surprise and pleasure as Sylvanas began to rock against her, slowly, giving her time to adjust to the new sensation. "Mmmm! Ohh! Oh, Sylvanas, now what are you doing to me?" Anristina suddenly understood Sylvanas' impulse to bite as she sank her teeth into the Banshee Queen's shoulder.

"How does that feel?" Sylvanas' voice was strained; someone else might not have noticed, but Anristina knew by now that that tone meant that Sylvanas was wildly aroused and loving it.

"So good. More. Please."

Sylvanas clutched Anristina's leg tightly, the motion of her hips shifting from a measured, careful roll to sharp thrusts, eliciting loud cries from her consort. "Ahh...like that, my darling?"

"Ohh, yes! That!" Anristina's back arched helplessly, her head tilting backward again.

"Let me lay you down. I think you'll enjoy it more."

Sylvanas eased Anristina down to the bedroll, carefully resting her head on the pillow before continuing to grind against her hungrily. "Oooh!" Anristina squealed like a succubus, her hips bucking into Sylvanas' strong body.

"You know, I imagined this," Sylvanas panted, gripping Anristina's thigh and hugging it to her chest. "You writhing beneath me, crying out...my imagination pales in comparison to your beauty."

Anristina was fairly sure she had forgotten how to form words, but in the half-second it took Sylvanas to slightly adjust her position, she remembered a few crucial ones. They were in Thalassian, and she had looked them up and repeated them to herself over and over to make sure she had the pronunciation right, waiting for the right time to say them. "Shinda a'melore, Sylvanas!" she gasped out.

For a moment, Sylvanas completely froze. Shaking, Anristina looked up at her; her expression could only be described as "shocked". "Sylvanas? What's wrong, my lady? Did I not pronounce it right?"

Sylvanas lunged forward and kissed Anristina hungrily. "Your pronunciation was flawless, my sweet little healer."

Another tremulous moan bubbled up from Anristina's throat as Sylvanas resumed the swift, rough motion of her hips, using one arm to support her weight, the other hand clutching one of Anristina's breasts. Her head rested against Anristina's chest. "My beautiful little one..." she panted. "I'm so...so lucky...to have chosen you..."

Anristina groaned as she felt Sylvanas' teeth bite hard into her breast and reached up to rake her nails down her lover's back, leaning up to look at the long, deep marks she was leaving on the Dark Lady's shoulder blades. She had always suspected that Sylvanas enjoyed being scratched and bitten, but had been too shy to test that theory. "Shinda a'melore," she whispered again, loving the way the Thalassian words rolled off her tongue, so much softer and kinder than Gutterspeak. The phrase she had just spoken translated literally to "you are the sunlight to me" or "you are my sunlight", but really it was an idiomatic expression that meant "I love you".

Anristina tried and failed to fight back another moan as her body shook with a fresh wave of pleasure. She clung to Sylvanas' shoulders, unable to focus on anything else. "Ohh!" she cried out. "Ooh, Sylvanas, I..._ohh_!" Anristina felt her whole body spasm beneath Sylvanas, her weary undead muscles struggling to keep up with what she was feeling. She felt something tear painlessly near her groin and went limp, the strange but wonderful lingering sensations of pleasure dissipating slowly. Sylvanas was draped motionlessly across her, having apparently reached her climax with typical modesty. Anristina tried to stroke her hair, but her brain was still working out how movement worked after such a new experience and her hand ended up resting ineffectually on the back of Sylvanas' head. "Thank you, Sylvanas. Thank you, my lady."

Sylvanas turned her head slightly to kiss the skin of Anristina's chest; she didn't have the energy to do anything else. "My sweet, I thought it was very kind of you at the time, but I think someone might have misinformed you about what you said to me in Thalassian."

"It doesn't mean 'I love you'?"

Sylvanas struggled to get up so she could look Anristina in the eyes. "That is...what you meant to say?"

"I thought you knew." Anristina reached up to touch Sylvanas' face, but Sylvanas pulled away. She sat on the bedroll with her legs crossed, facing away from Anristina.

"Knew what?" Anristina thought she heard Sylvanas' voice trembling, but she could have been wrong. "Knew that you had completely lost your senses?"

Anristina sat up and wrapped her arms around Sylvanas' waist, resting her cheek on the elf's shoulder. "My beautiful Dark Lady, did you really think I could be your consort without falling in love with you?"

Sylvanas stood up. "I...I can't...how can you possibly be in love with me?"

Anristina followed her, resting a hand on Sylvanas' shoulder. "How could I not?"

Sylvanas covered her face with both her hands, torn by equally strong impulses; one to dress again, bolt into the forest, and shoot passing birds in the eye until she calmed down and one to wrap Anristina in a tight embrace and cover her face with kisses. "I am not...lovable. I'm cold. Bitter. Filled with rage and hatred, driven only by my desire to protect my people. Half of Azeroth thinks I'm entirely mad. I'm admired, I'm respected, I'm...I'm feared...obeyed...but never loved."

"I told you a while ago that your Forsaken are completely devoted to you. We love our Dark Lady."

Sylvanas pinched the bridge of her nose. "I thought you were exaggerating to flatter me."

Anristina hugged Sylvanas around the waist and kissed the back of her neck; Sylvanas did not push her away. "I wasn't exaggerating. All right, maybe I can't speak for all of your people, even though...I hear it when your name is spoken. It's something more than reverence. But...I love you."

"No. You can't," Sylvanas insisted.

"My lady, as your consort, I am controlled by you in many ways. But you can't force me to stop loving you."

"I'm not forcing you to do anything. I'd never...it's disbelief. That's what it is. Why would you love someone who can't love you back?" Sylvanas began pulling on her own hair.

"Sylvanas, my lady..." Anristina gently covered Sylvanas' hands with her own, trying to get her to stop. "I know you very well by now. Not nearly as well as I would like, but I do know I can't expect you to return my feelings. While I wish things would be different, I don't expect them to be. I can't change how...how inspiring and beautiful I find you. I mean...you're the Banshee Queen."

"Yes, and a banshee's primary function is to strike fear into the hearts of her enemies!"

"What about her consort, though?" Anristina kissed Sylvanas' neck again, this time adding a soft little bite so Sylvanas could feel it. "My lady, I don't expect you to return my feelings, and I must confess I don't understand why you're so upset."

"I'm not upset." Sylvanas' voice was low and dull, impossible to interpret.

"Then what's wrong, Sylvanas?" When Sylvanas didn't reply, Anristina let go of her and walked around to face her. Her head was tilted down and Anristina couldn't see her eyes. "Sylvanas?"

Sylvanas did not reply. Anristina took a closer look at her; she was as closed-off and expressionless as Anristina had ever seen her, as unreadable as one of her val'kyr with the blank face-plates on their astral helmets. The feeling of Sylvanas pulling away from her was suddenly so strong it was almost palpable, like high tide around a swimmer's ankles retreating as the moon sloshed the ocean backwards. Anristina rested a hand on one side of Sylvanas' face and leaned up to kiss her other cheek. "Please don't leave me," she begged softly.

Anristina almost cried out in relief when she felt Sylvanas' hand come to rest on the small of her back. "Forgive me," she said softly.

Anristina flung her arms around Sylvanas, and this time she did cry out softly when she felt her embrace returned. "I didn't mean to...to upset you."

"It isn't your fault, my darling." Sylvanas sifted a hand through Anristina's tousled curls. "I wanted to show you how special you are to me. Of course you would react like you did."

"I...I can't help that I love you. I thought you'd want to hear that, and...I was waiting for the right time to say it in Thalassian..."

"It was a very sweet gesture." Sylvanas began lightly trailing her nails up and down Anristina's back. "I'm sorry if I frightened you, little one."

"I felt you...pulling away from me."

"I'm here." Sylvanas gently swayed Anristina back and forth.

"I'm just...confused. What...Sylvanas, what were you feeling when I was trying to convince you I meant what I said? That I love you?"

Sylvanas kissed Anristina's hair instead of replying. Anristina waited, but Sylvanas did not answer her.

"May I make a guess, my lady?"

"You may."

"You didn't know what you were feeling and it..." Anristina hesitated. She had been planning to say "frightened", but nothing frightened the Dark Lady. "...surprised you."

Sylvanas sighed. "You are very close, if not completely correct. And I am sorry if I hurt you."

Sylvanas had just apologized twice, and Anristina knew she did not apologize lightly. Anristina received a third apology as Sylvanas stepped back from their embrace, held Anristina's face in both hands, and brushed her lips over Anristina's mouth. "It's all right. I think I tore a muscle in my groin, but it didn't hurt. Of course, healing it will." She smiled ruefully. "It was certainly worth it."

"Would you like some healing potion, or would you prefer to heal yourself?"

"Healing potion, I think. It hurts less if I drink it slowly than if I just cast Holy Light."

Sylvanas nodded. "Why don't you sit down?"

Anristina sat on Sylvanas' bedroll while Sylvanas dug through her belongings. "Ah...here we are." She handed a flask of healing potion to Anristina and sat down beside her; Anristina immediately lay down with her head in Sylvanas' lap. "Do you still hear other Forsaken say 'Dark Lady watch over you' as a farewell?"

"Yes."

Sylvanas leaned over and kissed Anristina between her eyes. "I cannot return your feelings of...of love. But I promise to watch over you in a way I do for no one else. No one may harm you without incurring the wrath of the Banshee Queen."

Anristina grinned. "If I could still blush, I wager my face would be bright red."

Sylvanas smiled. "I meant every word."

"My lady, I have a...a request, I suppose you might call it."

"Ask."

"I've heard you have a lovely singing voice. Will you...will you sing to me?"

"I don't sing the Lament for just any occasion, Dorini'da."

Anristina assumed she meant the Lament of the Highborne. "I didn't mean I wanted you to sing that. You can sing anything you want."

"Hmm." Sylvanas pondered for a moment; Anristina took a moment to sip a bit of healing potion and grimaced as the magic went to work.

"I never knew receiving wounds could be so much more pleasurable than healing them."

Sylvanas snickered lightly, once. "I think I have the right song."

"May I hear it?"

Sylvanas inhaled deeply, which looked immensely strange to Anristina, who had never seen the Dark Lady draw breath. Anristina supposed, though, that air was necessary for singing even after it became unnecessary for existing. Sylvanas began to sing; the melody sounded somehow leisurely, somehow spellbinding.

_E o! U shinda?_  
><em>Turus ano, osa.<em>  
><em>Lo doral ana'diel?<em>  
><em>Dor'ni'badiel.<em>

_Shan're fal neph'anis fandu'talah_  
><em>Belore'nory ishura<em>  
><em>T'ase'mushal balah.<em>

_E o! Shindo su._  
><em>Neph'a shindo no?<em>  
><em>Lo doral ana'diel?<em>  
><em>Dor'ana'rudiel.<em>

_I asto're'dunadah?_  
><em>Belore da kalah?<em>  
><em>Neph'a, shar d thus,<em>  
><em>Thoribas d thera'mush.<em>

"It's lovely," Anristina said softly. "What's it called?"

"'Song of the Willow'. It's been translated into Gutterspeak. The translation isn't as...nuanced as the original, but that's what happens when one tries to translate Thalassian."

"Can you sing the translation? Please?"

"Certainly. You know, it's been too long since I sang anything...I suppose I wasn't in the mood. I used to sing quite a bit when I was alive. Also, controlling one's breath for singing when one doesn't need to breathe anymore is _strange_."

Sylvanas filled her unused lungs with air again, and re-started the song in Gutterspeak.

_Heigh ho! Who is there?_  
><em>No one but me, my dear.<em>  
><em>Please come say, How do?<em>  
><em>The things I'll give to you.<em>

_By a stroke as gentle as a feather_  
><em>I'll catch a rainbow from the sky<em>  
><em>And tie the ends together.<em>

_Heigh ho! I am here._  
><em>Am I not young and fair?<em>  
><em>Please come say, How do?<em>  
><em>The things I'll show to you.<em>

_Would you have a wond'rous sight?_  
><em>The midday sun at midnight?<em>  
><em>Fair maid, white and red,<em>  
><em>Comb you smooth and stroke your head.<em>

"It is prettier in Thalassian," Anristina mused, "but you have such a lovely voice, you could make Orcish sound beautiful."

Sylvanas allowed herself to make a disgusted face. "Singing in Orcish is a nightmare. I'd sooner eat frog spawn, even if I could still taste anything."

"A'melore?"

"If you're using that as an epithet, it's just 'melore'. What is it?"

"I know you've just sung it twice, but will you sing it one more time? I have a reason other than hearing your beautiful voice again, I promise."

"One more time, then." Sylvanas began the song again, and this time was pleasantly surprised to hear Anristina join in. After a few bars, Anristina pitched her voice higher, finding a higher harmony that Sylvanas had not heard before; she was making it up, and producing a lovely sound at that. Rather than cutting off the song in surprise, Sylvanas kept singing; Anristina flubbed the words a little, likely confused by the fact that Sylvanas was singing in Thalassian and Anristina was attempting Gutterspeak, but her voice was steady.

"I didn't know you were so talented at music. My little one is full of surprises." Sylvanas bent over to kiss Anristina's forehead. "And you can still sing. Did you have any work done on your vocal cords? I don't see any scars."

"I didn't have them replaced. I didn't want my voice to be completely different. But I asked Undertaker Abirad—my friend Josepha is a gender-changer, and Abirad has done a lot of work for her, so I've talked to him when I went with Josepha to get some of the changes done—and asked him if he had anything to, you know, smooth out a voice. Fix the damage to the cords. He mixed up a draught for me to drink once a day. I've been practicing singing. My tentmate Diahan has been giving me demon spit for it...telling me I was awful, that kind of thing...but I think I've finally stopped caring about how awful she is."

Sylvanas shook her head. "How about I just get you your own tent? To be frank, I might suggest that you move all your things here, but I wouldn't want to pressure you."

Anristina sat up and kissed Sylvanas hard. "I'd love to stay here with you."

"I'm glad you're so...jubilant regarding the prospect. But I wouldn't want to frighten off anyone else you might want to court."

"You'd let me see other people?" Anristina looked surprised.

"Of course. You think I'm not aware that there are things you might need or want that I can't give." Sylvanas pulled Anristina into her lap.

"I don't want anyone besides you, Sylvanas."

Sylvanas closed her eyes. "I cannot give you everything you seek, Dorini'da. My heart has grown too cold. And if you ever want to pursue anyone else, I will not stop you."

"Thank you for giving me such freedom. And...did you just call me something in Thalassian?"

"Yes. 'Dorini'da'...well, its literal meaning is 'honey bee', but Thalassian nouns often have many layers of meaning, and they take on different meanings when used to refer to people. 'Dorini'da' means...well, the honey bee is a hard worker. She is dedicated only to her work and does it with utmost care and devotion. And her work is to make honey. Another translation of 'Dorini'da' is 'maker of sweetness'. Also, she may produce sweetness, but she will sting if provoked. Don't think I didn't see the look on your face when you were watching Corlissa today. And before you ask, another translation is 'sweetness that may sting.'"

Anristina was grinning so hard she was afraid her face would split and need to be stitched up by Abirad or Mordo. "I like that name. Do you...object to me calling you Melore?"

Sylvanas was quiet for a moment. "I am the Dark Lady now, so it's odd to be called a word whose main translation is 'sunlight'."

"Is there something else you'd like me to call you?"

"Almost all of the words in Thalassian that are related to darkness or, gods forbid, undeath, become insults when used as epithets. And while Gutterspeak is my language now...I...I think what I want most is for you to call me by my given name. I have always found it gratifying to hear my titles...Dark Lady, Banshee Queen, sometimes Your Majesty, and Ranger-General while I was alive...but hearing you call me Sylvanas is somewhat intimate in a way that I've missed."

Anristina nodded solemnly. "I love you, Sylvanas."

* * *

><p>AN: I'm sorry I took so long to update. I just started a PhD program. Molecular bio, genetics and cancer. Serious shit.

Also, the song Sylvanas sings is my Thalassian "translation" (with help of the page on Thalassian on the WoW wiki) of "Willow's Song" from _The Wicker Man _(the original with Christopher Lee singing, not the shit remake with Nicholas Cage). YouTube it. It's sung (er, lip sync'd) by a naked, witchcraft-practicing, 30-year-old Britt Ekland, if you're into that. Mostly it's an eerily gorgeous song.


	5. Dorini'da

Arrows in My Quiver

Chapter Five: Dorini'da

Summary: Weary of believing that undead can experience nothing pleasurable, the Dark Lady takes a consort from the ranks of her Forsaken army. What she didn't know she also needed was reassurance of her people's faith in her.

Disclaimer: Characters, settings, etc. are the property of Blizzard Entertainment. Except for Anristina. She belongs to Sylvanas.

Pairings: Sylvanas/OC

Author's Notes: Sylvanas' Hallows End speech is kind of the greatest thing ever. I actually started writing this chapter around Halloween. And then shit went down. Long story short, I'm now on medical leave thanks to major depressive disorder and newly diagnosed PTSD. So I didn't write any of this for months because when I'm sad as blue fuck, I can only write things that are sad as blue fuck, and the first half of this chapter is Forsaken celebrating Hallow's End and the second half is passionate Anristina/Sylvanas lovemaking, so…yeah.

Warnings/kinks: e-stim, heavy biting and scratching

* * *

><p>"Children of the grave, hear my call!"<p>

Anristina thanked every god or goddess that may or may not exist that she was already kneeling. A long shiver ran through her as her queen's voice rang out through the courtyard. She could feel her knees trembling; if she were standing, she would have collapsed. "In life, we suffered unspeakable tragedies. We've watched as our homes were razed to the ground. We cried out in agony as our families were cut down before our eyes!"

Anristina let her aforementioned eyes close; she could feel the backs of her eyes beginning to prickle, as if she was about to cry. Because of her undeath, she wouldn't shed any tears right away, but Sylvanas' succinct and painfully accurate choice of words was making her feel as if it had been she, not Sylvanas, who had been run through by Frostmourne. As much as Sylvanas meant for the words she was using to describe her people, particularly the ones who had died alongside her in Quel'Thalas, they fit Sylvanas perfectly…and thinking of how Sylvanas had suffered under the yoke of the Scourge was sending Anristina into fits of empathy. _If it were really you standing in front of that wickerman, Sylvanas, my beautiful Dark Lady, and not an arcane image, I wouldn't be able to stop myself from throwing myself at your feet and holding on to you, _Anristina thought. And yet the sheer force and passion in Sylvanas' voice was doing powerful things to Anristina that were not related to empathy, but certainly…positive. The words, inspirational as they were, faded to leave only that strong, ringing voice…

She heard the now-familiar noise of a teleportation portal being used, followed immediately by a collective gasp. She opened her eyes to see Sylvanas herself, not just the ghostly image, standing before the wickerman. The Banshee Queen continued as if she hadn't noticed the crowd's reaction. "Finally, in the face of such atrocities, we were denied even the peace of death. Now, we burn this wickerman as a symbol of victory against our enemies! We paint our faces with ash to send a message to _new _enemies…a declaration to all those who fear and revile us as monsters! To those who question our place in this world! We are _not _monsters. We are not the mindless wretches or ghouls, are we?"

Whoops and claps followed in response. Anristina clapped as well, but her voice failed her; she could think of nothing that would not pale in comparison to Sylvanas' passionate speech.

"NO! We are a force even more terrifying! We are the chill in a coward's spine! We are the instruments of an unyielding eye! We are…_the Forsaken_!"

A thunderous roar of approval went up from the crowd; Sylvanas waited until it began to die down, then spoke again. "Is the priest Anristina Vale among your number today?"

Anristina thrilled and her words froze in her throat; Josepha was nearby and spoke up. "She is, Your Majesty."

"Anristina Vale," Sylvanas intoned. "Rise."

Quaking, Anristina somehow managed to get to her feet. Sylvanas noticed and spoke again.

"Come here to me…my little healer."

Sylvanas had never used any affectionate name for Anristina in front of such a sizeable crowd before. She heard a low murmur run through the assembled Forsaken as she walked slowly to where Sylvanas stood in front of the wickerman. "You inquired after me, my lady?" she managed to croak out, sounding as if she were fresh out of the grave.

Sylvanas was holding ashes from the wickerman cupped in one hand. "Anristina, will you permit me to paint your face with these ashes and bestow upon you the grim visage?"

"I would be most honored, Dark Lady." Anristina knelt and turned her face up, eyes closed. She felt Sylvanas' fingertips, pressing firmly on her cheekbones and forehead so she could feel it, smearing the black ashes over her face.

"Now, my little one…" Sylvanas rested two fingertips beneath her consort's chin. "I want you to retrieve a handful of ashes for me."

Anristina was puzzled, but she knew better than to hesitate. She scooped up a small pile of ashes.

"Now stand."

Anristina did, one hand extended to hold the ashes, which wasn't easy with her hands still in the form of non-dexterous Forsaken claws. "What do you ask of me, my queen?"

"I ask that you paint my face with the ashes."

An audible gasp—one of surprise, if Anristina had to guess—went up from the assembled undead. Sylvanas, rather typically, showed no reaction; Anristina had to try not to giggle.

"I will…" Anristina held up her free hand; Sylvanas understood immediately and pressed Anristina's hand between hers. There was a familiar _crunch_, and Anristina's hand came away shaped as it had been when she was alive. A low murmur ran through the crowd; they both ignored it. Anristina dipped her fingers into the lump of ash and tried to force herself not to hesitate before brushing the fine black powder over her queen's perfect forehead and cheekbones. Sylvanas closed her eyes and dipped her head forehead slightly, somehow managing to look elegant and sympathetic to Anristina's short stature as opposed to subservient. Anristina left a few careful streaks of black ashes down the Forsaken leader's jawbones. "It is done, my lady."

"Many thanks, Anristina." Sylvanas swiftly removed one of her arm protectors and extended her bare hand to Anristina. Loving the tacit language they had developed, Anristina cradled Sylvanas' wrist in both hands and kissed each of her knuckles. "You are free to return to your celebration of Hallow's End."

It took all of Anristina's self-control not to throw her arms around Sylvanas and kiss her. "Thank you, my lady." Thankful that her undeath kept her from blushing, Anristina walked back into the throng of reveling Forsaken. She tried not to smile as she became the target of many jealous glares and more than a few admiring ones.

"Well, well," said Josepha with a grin. "That's not something you see every day."

Anristina finally failed at holding back her smile. "Me actually looking important?"

"The Banshee Queen showing affection."

"Oh, she does that very often, just only when we're alone together."

"You aren't worried, are you?"

Anristina's brow furrowed. "Worried? About what? That half of the Forsaken are wildly jealous of me?"

"Far more than half, but no. That Lady Sylvanas Windrunner cares enough about one of her people to publicly acknowledge their apparently very affectionate relationship. You might as well have a target on your back as far as all of the Forsaken's enemies are concerned."

Anristina bit her lower lip. "The Dark Lady shares your concern. She told me…" Anristina glanced around for a moment to make sure nobody was eavesdropping on them. "She told me she had considered asking that I make her tent my home. I think…for some reason, she thinks I might be interested in seeing someone other than her, but she also wants to make sure I'm safe."

"I heard about what happened with that slime-heart Putrescine. They say it looked like the Dark Lady was about to rip him apart with her bare hands, but she chose to take care of you instead."

"She brought me back to her tent and made me tea."

Josepha laughed. "That's adorable."

"I'd appreciate it if you wouldn't repeat that."

"You mean the Banshee Queen would appreciate it. It's all right; my lips are sealed."

"Not literally, I hope," replied Anristina. "I like the nice new androgynous voice Abirad gave you. Do you still get people asking you if you're a man or a woman?"

"Almost no Forsaken, but some other Hordies."

"Please tell me you still just answer 'yes'."

Josepha chuckled. "It's getting a little worn, but still fun."

"Shall we go to the mask vendor? I want to get in on the fun of mocking the Alliance humans. And then douse the Stormwind wickerman while wearing them."

"Hah! Sure. Have you stink-bombed Stormwind yet?"

"Not yet, but I'm looking forward to it."

As Anristina and Josepha picked through the masks, Joseph asked something that would have made Anristina's heart stop had it still been beating. "Does she love you?"

Anristina nearly dropped the human male mask she was holding. "What are you talking about?"

"Lady Sylvanas. Does she love you?"

Anristina shook her head rapidly. "The Dark Lady doesn't love anyone."

"What makes you say that?"

"She told me that."

"She let you _kiss her_ in public."

"Well, I know she…she cares about me. She'd never let anything happen to me." Anristina strapped on the mask. "Gods, I can't believe how ugly humans are. And we used to be human…"

"Don't change the subject, Tina."

Anristina sighed. "She said that…that she doesn't love anyone, but she promised to keep me safe. She kissed me and said she would watch over me in a way she doesn't for anyone else. And she gave me a Thalassian nickname."

"Oh, did she? What is it?"

"Jo, you don't speak Thalassian."

"But she told you what it means, didn't she?"

"Of course."

"So? What's the nickname?"

Anristina took a deep breath, something she still did out of habit when she was nervous. "She calls me 'Dorini'da'."

"Are you going to tell me what that means?"

Anristina felt the delayed reaction of her blush finally happening, sludgy blood creeping into her cheeks and darkening them with embarrassment. She was grateful for the ugly human mask, and found herself making a mental note to ask one of the undertakers if most well-preserved Forsaken could blush or Anristina was unusually prone to embarrassment. She also suspected Sylvanas might have something to do with her strange ability (so to speak) to move blood through her weakened veins. "She told me it has many meanings. Thalassian is a very nuanced language. But the literal translation is 'honey bee'."

"'Honey bee', huh? Did she say why she picked that name for you?"

Anristina thought about that. "Well, she said the 'sweetness that may sting' connotation came from the way I was glaring at that blood-elf who was making overtures to her."

"I heard about that! Koly said he was worried he'd have to physically stop you from beating the twisting nether out of that blood-elf's face."

Anristina smiled sheepishly. "Is Kolwryn going by Koly now?"

"No, it's just a nickname. I know her pretty well now; we had a long talk yesterday about how Gutterspeak should have gender-neutral pronouns."

"Yeah…I'm a bit surprised we don't already."

"Well, some Forsaken use Thalassian gender-neutral pronouns, but they're complicated."

"Thalassian sounds like a complicated tongue," Anristina agreed. "Sylvanas told me that another meaning of 'Dorini'da' is 'loyal', or 'devoted to her queen'."

"Awww!" Josepha grabbed Anristina and squeezed her in a tight hug. "That is sodding adorable."

"Jo!" Anristina squeaked. "I may not need my lungs, but healing all my ribs at once would be quite annoying!"

"If you and the Dark Lady weren't so adorable, I wouldn't have to attack-hug you." But Josepha put Anristina down. "I think even Diahan would think you two were adorable."

"I might not have to deal with her anymore soon. I am going to move into Sylvanas' tent. She may have said she didn't want to pressure me or chase off anyone else I'd want to see, but I can't fathom why she thinks I would want anyone else but her."

"And you don't think that will put a target on your back?"

Anristina shrugged. "As you said, I think there already is one. I might be safer if I stay with Sylvanas. She won't let any harm come to me."

"She told you that?"

Not in so many words. But yes."

"Let me guess. She said something too adorable to reveal because it would damage the Dark Lady's reputation?"

"Basically. But I would feel safe if I stayed in her tent."

"You've definitely decided you're going to move in with her?"

Anristina grinned so widely that she was afraid that a new tear would open along one of her cheeks. "Yes."

"Well, good luck. I can help you move some of your things if you want."

"Awww, thanks, Jo. Shall we douse the Stormwind wickerman now?"

"Twisting nether, yes!"

.

* * *

><p>Sylvanas was practicing her archery. Anristina knew that she dreaded losing even a modicum of her skill and practiced whenever she had time. When she found Sylvanas, she was aiming at a target so far away it took Anristina a while to figure out what she was shooting. She waited until Sylvanas finished firing the arrow she had been nocking when Anristina walked up. "Sylvanas?"<p>

"Good afternoon, Dorini'da." Sylvanas put down her bow and beckoned to Anristina. Anristina approached while Sylvanas removed her arm-guards; Anristina expected the Banshee Queen to offer up her hand for a kiss, but instead Sylvanas cupped her face in both hands and kissed her.

"Sylvanas? My lady?" Anristina murmured, confused.

"No one's around. I would know. Think of this as the kiss you wanted on Hallow's End." Sylvanas kissed her consort again, and this time Anristina dared to rest her hands on Sylvanas' waist. Though they were alone, the forest felt infinitely less private than Sylvanas' tent.

"If you will permit it, I have decided to make your tent my home."

"If I 'will permit it'? Recall that I invited you." Sylvanas brushed the back of one hand against her consort's cheek.

Anristina leaned up and planted a small kiss on Sylvanas' cheek. "Shinda a'melore," she whispered.

Sylvanas allowed herself to flinch; she didn't mind Anristina seeing her emote when they were alone together. "I cannot say that in return without lying, Dorini'da. I care for you, but…"

"I know." Anristina rested a hand on Sylvanas' cheek. "It is too dangerous for you to love."

"Too dangerous…if not impossible. I fear hurting you because of that."

"You won't. I understand." Anristina lowered Sylvanas' hood and affectionately cupped a hand behind one of her long ears.

"Hmm. I grow suspicious that it's my ears you love, not me."

"I do love your ears. But I wouldn't love them if they weren't attached to you."

Sylvanas shook her head. "My little healer, why must you be so adorable? My people aren't supposed to be adorable. We're supposed to be terrifying. 'The chill in a coward's spine', remember?"

"I can be terrifying!" Anristina insisted.

Sylvanas allowed herself a tiny smile. "I will believe that when I see it." She leaned forward and spoke into Anristina's ear in a low voice that shivers rocketing up and down the priest's spine. "Shall we return to my tent?"

"Please, Sylvanas, my beautiful queen," Anristina whispered.

"Very well." Sylvanas gently placed one still-bare hand on the small of Anristina's back. "Come with me."

They walked to the Banshee Queen's tent together, Sylvanas keeping one hand resting on Anristina's back. To Anristina, it felt…no, not "possessive"; she didn't like the connotations of that. "Protective". That was it. She couldn't help but relish the looks they got as they passed other Forsaken in the camp; Sylvanas seemed not to notice. In fact, she seemed completely impassive until they were both inside and the tent flap was closed; then she seized Anristina by the front of her robe and kissed her roughly, pushing her up against one of the poles supporting the tent. Anristina wrapped her arms tightly around her mistress, but when her knees started to go weak, she still began to slide down against the pole. "Sylvanas, my lady, if you keep doing this, I may have to ask one of the undertakers for new knees."

"Well, let's take some stress off of those knees, then." Sylvanas helped Anristina to the bedroll and laid her down.

"What does my lady require of me tonight?" Anristina murmured.

"I have something new for us to try." Sylvanas trailed her nails down her consort's neck.

"Mmm." Anristina began struggling to get her gown off. Sylvanas laughed lightly.

"Let me help you." Sylvanas tenderly unlaced and tugged at Anristina's robe until it had parted company with the priest's body, and then Anristina yanked off her undershirt.

"Why didn't you have these robes tailored for easier removal?" Anristina grumbled.

A small smile turned up the corners of Sylvanas' mouth as she raked her nails up and down her consort's sides. "Because, my sweet little healer, you used to be terrified of undressing for me."

"Oh, yes, that. Foolish me," Anristina murmured. "Does my queen wish for me to undress her?"

"Yes, I do." Sylvanas reshaped Anristina's hands, and Anristina flexed her fingers a few times before attacking the fastenings on Sylvanas' armor. She covered Sylvanas' pale lustrous blue skin with kisses as she worked, feeling her head spin as if she were drunk on her desire. She didn't have Sylvanas' pointed teeth, but she tried to add small bites to her kisses to allow Sylvanas to feel what she was doing.

Anristina knelt before Sylvanas to help her remove her boots, and after that was done, she stayed on her knees, running her hands over the Dark Lady's still clothed legs. "Oh, Sylvanas, my lady…" Anristina rested one side of her face against Sylvanas' right hip. "My lady is so lovely she makes her consort feel as if she's had several helpings of ale."

Sylvanas slid the fingers of one hand through Anristina's hair. "Lie down on the bedroll, Dorini'da. I have something to show you."

"Yes, Sylvanas."

Anristina made her way to the bedroll and lay on her back, waiting for Sylvanas. Sylvanas returned shortly, carrying what looked rather like a novice mage's wand. It was painted a dark purple and was sanded smooth rather than remaining gnarled like the branch from which it had been made. The Forsaken queen knelt and caressed Anristina's cheek with the tip of the wand. "Watch," she commanded softly.

Anristina watched. Sylvanas tapped the inert end of the wand on her palm three times, then pressed the tip to the skin of her left forearm. There was a faint buzzing sound as Sylvanas dragged the wand over her skin; it left a trail of raised dark blue circles in its wake. Sylvanas, ordinarily so quiet, bit back a moan. Anristina's heart no longer beat, but she was sure that if it did, the little noise Sylvanas made would have made it race and pound. "What is that?"

"It's a wand that delivers a mild pulse not unlike lightning. I find the sensation…most pleasurable. And I want to see how you react to it."

"Yes, Sylvanas," Anristina murmured.

Sylvanas tapped the inert end of the wand against her palm twice, tested the tip on her arm and found it inactive, then tapped the inert end again, only once this time. In response to Anristina's nonplussed expression, Sylvanas explained, "The intensity of the pulse can be changed. I don't wish to overwhelm you or harm you. Now, give me your arm."

Anristina obediently held out her left arm. Sylvanas laid the tip of the wand against Anristina's inner forearm and guided it in a meandering path from her elbow to her wrist. It felt strange; it tingled without tickling and was sharp without hurting. "Ohhh…it is quite…exciting," Anristina gasped. "Will you…mmm…" Anristina cut herself off before she accidentally asked something of the woman she was supposed to serve. She understood by now that part of her service to Sylvanas Windrunner was to be able to be vulnerable before her, and to allow Sylvanas to see her experiencing pleasure, but it was still not her place to ask for favors.

Sylvanas leaned over Anristina and kissed her deeply. "Tell me what you want, little healer."

The voice that issued the command was low and soft. Anristina was powerless to refuse. "Turn up the intensity. Please."

Sylvanas did, by one notch. This time, when she took the wand to Anristina's body, she did so on her consort's shoulder, leaving the telltale track of raised circular marks down to the center of Anristina's chest. This time there was a soupcon of pain and Anristina arched into the delicious sting of the wand, moaning.

"That pleases you, doesn't it?"

"It hurts so good," Anristina whimpered. "I can see why you enjoy this."

"You want more?" Sylvanas cooed.

"Yes, Sylvanas. Please."

"Serve me well tonight—as you always do—and I will give you as much as you want."

Anristina sat up and began covering Sylvanas' mouth with kisses. "I would be honored," she murmured against Sylvanas' lips. She got up on her knees; Sylvanas lay down with Anristina bent over her, never breaking their passionate kiss. Sylvanas' nails dug into Anristina's upper back, leaving long, deep scratches. "Tell me what you want, my lady," Anristina managed through a moan.

"Use the wand first." Sylvanas held out the wand; Anristina took it carefully by the handle, using her dominant hand. "I want you to try to find out where I like it. If you have trouble, I will guide you."

"May I play with your breasts as well?"

"Please."

Anristina fastened her lips onto the tip of Sylvanas' breast and began to suckle, biting none too gently. Sylvanas ground her teeth, her hands clamping down on Anristina's shoulders. "Mmm, you've gotten good at this."

While her mouth was still working at Sylvanas' breast, Anristina lifted the wand and cautiously pressed the tip to the center of the undead elf's chest. She earned a small groan in response, but little else. Feeling strangely as if she had failed and hoping to redeem herself, Anristina sat up to take the wand into her non-dominant hand and roll one of her lover's nipples between two fingertips. On a wing and a prayer, she lightly smacked the swell of Sylvanas' other breast with the wand.

"Mmm…Dorini'da…yes…" Sylvanas moaned.

"You like that, my lady?" The moment the words left her mouth, Anristina felt foolish, but Sylvanas nodded, eyes closed.

Anristina tried again, this time bringing the tip of the wand down on the nipple that she wasn't toying with. Sylvanas gritted her teeth again and arched into the contact. "I want you inside me. Now."

"Already, Sylvanas?"

Sylvanas opened her eyes for a moment. "You underestimate what you do to me, sweet little one."

"Like the first time we were together?" Anristina whispered, sliding two fingers into Sylvanas to the hilt.

Sylvanas let out a ragged sigh. "Yes," she whispered. "Watching you become such a perfect submissive was so…_mmm…_exciting…"

Anristina curled her fingers inside Sylvanas. "Do you want me to keep using the wand, my lady?"

"Yes," Sylvanas panted, her hips beginning to rock in time with Anristina's strokes. "I think…you know what you are doing…"

Anristina was not ambidextrous and it took her a moment to figure out how to both work the wand and keep her fingers going steadily, particularly because she was tempted to sit back and watch her mistress' beautiful body writhe with pleasure. But soon she was dragging the wand over Sylvanas' breasts, leaving lovely, almost artful trails of circular marks on her skin. "Like that?"

"Yes," Sylvanas whispered. "Yes. More."

Anristina raked the tip of the wand over Sylvanas' skin again, this time in a wavy pattern, weaving the trail in between the dots left by the last stroke.

"Good," Sylvanas groaned through clenched teeth. "Give me your shoulder."

Anristina bent over Sylvanas, pressing herself warmly against the other woman's body. Sylvanas leaned up to sink her teeth into the base of Anristina's neck, breaking the skin, stifling what Anristina thought might have been a moan as her body stiffened and shuddered. She lay back down, spent and exhausted. Her grip on her consort's shoulders relaxed. "Did I please you?" Anristina murmured, dropping the wand next to the bedroll and brushing the elf's hair back from her face.

"I knew I made a good choice with you," Sylvanas sighed. "Let me rest for a moment. Then I'll take care of you. Did I bite you too hard?"

Anristina kissed Sylvanas' face. "I'm used to it, Sylvanas, my Dark Lady. And it doesn't hurt."

Sylvanas lightly touched the scratches she had left. "Do you know what it feels like, sweet Dorini'da?"

"What?"

"It's almost like…being alive again."

Anristina lay down beside Sylvanas and nuzzled her shoulder. "You don't have to take care of me if you're tired."

"I want to." Sylvanas turned on her side to caress Anristina's hair. "Why don't you think about what you want me to do to please you while you rest?"

"All right. You know what else I've been thinking about? My surname. 'Vale' is very much not Forsaken. And no names that have to do with healing sound particularly Forsaken either."

"Hmm." Sylvanas thought for a moment. "This is difficult. Perhaps something to do with where you were raised? Deathknell, yes?"

"Mm-hmm."

"'Deathknellborne', perhaps…well, it has a nice irony to it, but it's a bit awkward when one speaks it aloud."

"I was thinking something with 'Shadow' in it." Anristina offered.

"How come?"

"Because of this." Anristina floated one hand over the marks on Sylvanas' arm that had been left by the shock wand and uttered a few words to produce a spell. The marks began to shrink.

Sylvanas saw her arm healing and felt no pain, which could only mean one thing. "Anristina, did you just use a _shadow _heal?"

Anristina blinked. "Er, yes."

"You've joined the Cult of Forgotten Shadow!?" Sylvanas sat upright, glaring.

Anristina jumped at the sudden sharpness in Sylvanas' voice. "Well, yes. I didn't want to continue healing you with Holy Light, since it hurts you. And then…well, the concept of Divine Humanism is most appealing…my Dark Lady, why does this upset you? Many of your Dark Rangers are followers of Forgotten Shadow. It was Velonara who first brought me to a gathering of those who believe as we do in Undercity."

"Do you not know that it is dangerous to be a follower of Forgotten Shadow?" Sylvanas demanded. "Shaping the world around you to your will can get very hazardous very quickly. The magic can backfire if you try spells beyond your ability, which is particularly prone to happening after you've embraced the idea that your actions and emotions can alter the universe. Not to mention there are nearly as many sects as there are followers. They spend more time squabbling than proselytizing and practicing combined. Squabbles don't ordinarily turn dangerous, but can you imagine how many sects would be delighted to have the Banshee Queen's consort among their number? You could easily get yourself into a difficult situation. Zealots often become violent when met with adversity, particularly Forsaken ones, who take my encouragement to slaughter anyone who stands in our way out of context." Sylvanas pinched the bridge of her nose. "I should never have called you to me after I gave my Hollow's End speech. I was prioritizing your happiness over your safety."

"I'm sorry, Sylvanas," Anristina murmured.

"I take it you have already been to gatherings of the Forgotten Shadow?"

"Yes," said Anristina guiltily.

"I cannot issue orders regarding your spiritual beliefs. But I _can _order you to not cast shadow spells in the presence of anyone but myself."

"I will obey, my lady, but…may I ask why?"

Sylvanas sighed. "You are a quick learner. Seeing your prowess at shadow magic will increase the likelihood that the various Forgotten Shadow sects will squabble or worse over your membership."

"May I still heal you using shadow spells?"

Sylvanas shook her head, as if disappointed with herself, and kissed Anristina's hair. "If you wish. As long as we are alone. Damn you, little one, I can't stay upset with you."

"I didn't know you were so concerned for my well-being," said Anristina with a small smile.

"I am trying to educate you on the possible danger of membership in a particular religious group," replied Sylvanas evasively. "I understand that their message is…seductive, or at least appealing. But be careful. I appreciate that you wanted to find a way to heal me without causing me pain, but I've been undead and accustomed to the painful healing of Holy Light for almost five years."

"Yes, Sylvanas." Anristina hung her head obediently.

Sylvanas moved close to Anristina and kissed her. "No more of this. Lie down and let me take care of you."

"Yes, Sylvanas." Anristina lay down; Sylvanas covered her face with slow, kind kisses. "Shinda a'melore," Anristina whispered.

"I know, Dorini'da." Sylvanas left a trail of bite marks down Anristina's neck. "Have you decided what you want to ask of me?"

"It still seems odd—nearly sacrilegious—to ask anything of you," said Anristina with a tremulous smile. "Do you still have that gel that made me…er…"

"I do."

"May I have some?"

Sylvanas kissed Anristina between her eyes. "Of course." She got up to fetch the jar of gel as Anristina requested. "I'd rather wait to apply it until you're more ready."

"Yes, my lady," Anristina moaned softly. She looked up at Sylvanas, her glowing yellow eyes glazed with desire. "I…I want…could you please use the wand?"

Sylvanas picked up the want from where Anristina had dropped it on the bedroll. "I will, little one."

"On the same setting as before. Please. I like the pain."

Sylvanas leaned forward and kissed Anristina's face. "I will. I'll start slowly. But first you must promise me something."

"Anything, my beautiful Dark Lady."

"If you need me to stop or change what I'm doing, you must tell me. I want to choose a word you can say if you need that…and if you can't think of the words to tell me. I'd prefer if you could simply tell me what to change…however…"

"I do have trouble with expressing myself when I'm in your bedroll," Anristina sighed. "You want me to choose a word?"

"Yes."

Anristina smiled lazily. "Perhaps…'shadow'?"

"Oh, you are a little character." Sylvanas smothered Anristina's giggle with a rough kiss. "But that will do."

"Will you use the wand now?"

"So impatient." Sylvanas shook her head, but Anristina could tell she wasn't being serious. Sylvanas retrieved the wand from where it lay beside the bedroll. "In the future, make sure you turn this off before you drop it."

"Yes, my lady."

Sylvanas tapped the base of the wand and tested it several times, making sure it was set to the middling intensity as Anristina had requested. "Tell me where you want it."

"Will my lady please try a few different things so her inexperienced consort may figure out what she enjoys?" Anristina quavered.

Sylvanas kissed Anristina's chin. "I will."

Anristina laid her head back as Sylvanas lightly pressed the tip of the wand to the hollow between her consort's collarbones. "Ohhh…" Anristina moaned softly. Encouraged, Sylvanas continued to trail the wand down Anristina's chest, between her breasts and down to one side, the wand's tip skidding lightly over her ribs. "I love the way it hurts," Anristina panted.

Sylvanas brushed her lips over the wand marks. "I love the way the marks look on you. They're a beautiful dark blue. I'll have to show you in the mirror later."

"More…please?"

"You don't have to be so polite, my sweet. Although I do love to hear you beg for more."

"You'll likely hear more of it," said Anristina, trying not to whimper.

"Excellent." Sylvanas moved the tip of the wand back up Anristina's ribs, brushing against one breast. Anristina struggled to press herself harder against the little buzzing device.

"Uhhnng…Sylvanas…"

"Would you like more?" Sylvanas cooed. "Will you tell me what you want?"

"Use it more on my breasts. Harder." Anristina's voice shook.

Sylvanas leaned over to nuzzle Anristina's ear. "Will you beg for it?" she murmured.

Sylvanas' velvet voice sent long, rocking shudders through Anristina's body, and her hips flexed upward of their own accord. "Please!" she gasped. "Sylvanas, my queen, my Dark Lady, I need more!"

"Do you?" Sylvanas nipped at Anristina's earlobe. "I don't know if I'm convinced yet."

Anristina gave a cry of frustration that tapered off into a low, animalistic groan. Her toes curled, their claws leaving holes in the fabric of Sylvanas' bedroll. "Yes! Yes, I need the shock wand on my breasts! Strike me with it! Push harder!"

"Mmm." Sylvanas' voice had become the low, seductive purr that drove Anristina wild. "My little one is so fierce when in the throes of lust. Such a good girl."

The wand whistled through the air, and the buzz it made when it struck the swell of Anristina's breast was lost in her scream of pleasure. "Yes! Ohh, Sylvanas…" The wand buzzed again as Sylvanas smacked her consort's still sore breast a second time, this time striking the tip. Anristina squealed, the pain shooting through her mind to become laced with pleasure. "S-so good…oooh…" Her hips bucked into empty air, yearning for friction, and Sylvanas stopped in the middle of another swing of the wand when she saw that Anristina's whole body was violently trembling. She swiftly disabled the wand and leaned over to kiss Anristina's face, bringing up one hand to gently cup her palm against the join of the other woman's legs.

"Is this what you want, Dorini'da?"

"Y-y-yes," Anristina mewled.

"Should I use the gel now?"

"Mmmm!"

Sylvanas understood that that meant "yes". She removed the top of the jar of gel, retrieved a small dollop with two fingers, and was greeted with low moans as she carefully rubbed the gel into her bed partner's most intimate flesh. She had to suppress a shiver as she felt Anristina's inner walls lightly squeeze her searching fingers; she crooked her knuckles and began to caress slowly. "How does that feel, my sweet?"

"_Ooooh…_" Anristina's body began to roll and arch rhythmically in response to Sylvanas' gentle strokes. "So good! What's in this gel?"

"I didn't care to ask. With the apothecaries, it's often better not to know." Sylvanas leaned over to sink her teeth into the space above Anristina's collarbone between her shoulder and the base of her neck, reaching up with her free hand to roughly squeeze one of the other woman's breasts.

"Ohh, Sylvanas…mmm…" Anristina tangled her hands in Sylvanas' hair. "I won't last much longer!"

Sylvanas could feel Anristina's inner thighs quaking. She twisted the hand still busy between Anristina's legs to run the pad of her thumb over the sensitive nub of flesh that caused Anristina to make a noise that sounded more like a succubus than a Forsaken. A few more strokes and Anristina's body was wracked with spasms of ecstasy, her clawed toes ripping more holes in Sylvanas' bedroll. Sylvanas slowed the motion of her fingers, allowing Anristina to ride out her climax.

When Anristina lay still, she reached her trembling arms up as if for an embrace; Sylvanas acceded to the tacit request, gathering the limp, beautiful body into her arms and kissing her consort's forehead. "How was it, Dorini'da?"

"Wonderful," Anristina whispered, her eyes closed.

"My sweet, I think I…felt something tear inside you. I did not mean to harm you. Was I too rough?"

"No, that happened last time too," Anristina sighed. "I'm lucky I can feel anything. My body simply hasn't adjusted to this yet."

"Ah, yes…now I remember. I suppose an advantage to becoming a follower of the Cult of Forgotten Shadow is that you can now heal the damage without pain."

"And you were gentle. I like that you can be gentle."

"I have my moments," Sylvanas conceded. "But don't reveal that."

Anristina chuckled. "As you wish, Sylvanas, my lady." There was a relaxed, almost deliriously happy quality to Anristina's voice. She opened her eyes and smiled lazily up at Sylvanas. "You are so beautiful when you smile."

It was only then that Sylvanas realized she was smiling, and that she could not have wiped that expression from her face even if she had wanted to.

* * *

><p>AN: Hurr hurr "violet wand" I made a pun

…I'll show myself out.


End file.
